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TUFTS  COLLEGE  STUDIES 

SECOND    SERIES,    NO.    I 

DEPARTMENT  OF  ENGLISH 


The    Growth    of 


Sartor     Resartus 


By  D.  L.  MAULSBY 


PUBI.ISHED     BY     THE     TRUSTEES     OF     TuFTS     COELEGE 


H.  W.  WHITTEMORE  &  CO. 

PRINTERS 

121  MADISON  STREET,  MALDEN,  MASS. 

1899 


Copyright  1899 
By  D.  L.  MAULSBY. 


All  rights  reserved. 


Acknowledgment. 


My  thanks  are  due  to  the  President  and  the  Trustees 
of  Tufts  College  for  authorizing  the  printing  of  this  study. 
To  Professor  Lewis  E.  Gates  of  Harvard  University,  and 
to  Professors  J.  S.  Kingsley  and  G.  T.  Knight  of  Tufts 
College,  I  am  indebted  for  valuable  suggestions.  Professor 
Archibald  MacMechan,  of  Dalhousie  College,  Halifax,  N.  S., 
has  kindly  read  the  article  in  proof,  and  has  otherwise 
rendered  generous  aid.  To  Professor  William  R.  Shipman  of 
Tufts  College  I  owe  in  many  ways  more  than  I  can  ever  repay. 

D.  h.  Maulsby. 


M97654 


ABBREVIATIONS. 


[The  abbreviations  are  arranged  in  alphabetical  order.  The  paging  of  the  Ameri- 
can Edition  of  1838-39  follows  the  name  of  the  essay,  for  purpose  of  comparison  with 
other  editions.]                                         

Vol.  Page. 
B          =  Burns,   in   Critical   and    Miscellaneous  Essays, 

Boston,  1838,              I,  287-350 

=  Biography, Ill,  96-113 

=  Bosweirs  Life  of  Johnson,  •    -        -        -        -        -  III,  1 14-194 

=  Carlyle.      - 

=  Count  Cagliostro,  -------  IV,  i-  78 

=  Characteristics, Ill,  46-  92 

=  Corn-Law  Rhymes,           ..-.--  HI,  269-302 

=  Diderot,      ---------  III,  303-381 

=  Death  of  Goethe,      -------  HI,  195-205 

=  Early   German   Literature  =  German    Literature 

of  the  Fourteenth  and  Fifteenth  Centuries,           -  II,  383-448 

=  Goethe, I,  220-286 

=  Goethe's  Helena,       -        - I,  162-219 

=  State  of  German  Literature, I,  28-  94 

=  German  Playwrights,        ------  I,  390-435 

=  Goethe's  Portrait,     -        - Ill,  93-  95 

=  Goethe's  Works,        -        - Ill,  206-268 

=  0n  History,        --------  II,  244-257 

=  On  History  Again,     -------  HI,  382-392 

=Jean  Paul  Friedrich  Richter,  -----  I,  1-27 

=Jean  Paul  Friedrich  Richter  Again,        -        -         -  II,  172-243 

=  Life  of  Heyne, -  I,  351-389 

=  Luther's  Psalm, II,  258-262 

=  Life  of  Schiller,  N.  Y.,  Phila.  and  Boston,  1846. 

=  Life  and  Writings  of  Werner,  Essays,  Boston,  1838,  I,  95-161 

=  MacMechan.      -------- 

=  The  Nibelungen  Lied,      ------  II,  319-382 

=  Schiller,     -        -        -        - II,  263-318 

=MacMechan's  Edition  of  Sartor  Resartus,  Boston, 

1896.   ---------- 

=  Signs  of  the  Times,  Essays,  Boston,  1838,      -        -  II,  82-142 

=  Taylor's  Historic  Survey  of  German  Poetry,          -  III,  i-  42 

=  Voltaire,      -        -        -        - II,  i-  81 


Bi 

Bo 

C 

CC     = 

Ch 

C  R 

D 

DG     = 

EGL 

G 

GH    = 

GL     = 

GP     = 

GPo  = 

GW   = 

H 

H  A    = 

T 

J 

JA      = 

LH    = 

LP     = 

L  S     = 

LW    = 

M 

N  L     = 

S 

SR      = 

ST      = 

TS      = 

V 

THE  GROWTH  OF  SARTOR  RESARTUS. 


The  object  of  this  essay  is  to  show  that  the  leading  ideas 
of  Sartor  Resartiis,  the  principal  devices  of  its  method,  and  even 
the  equivalents  of  many  of  its  phrases,  are  anticipated  in  Carlyle's 
earlier  essays.  In  short,  that  the  Sartor,  instead  of  springing 
full-grown  from  the  head  of  its  author,  and  thus  appearing  to 
be  little  less  than  a  miracle,  is  in  fact  a  growth,  an  *'  epitome  of 
all  that  Carlyle  thought  and  felt  in  the  course  of  the  first  thirty- 
five  years  of  his  residence  on  this  planet.  "(^)  In  the  collection 
of  material  for  the  demonstration  of  this  thesis,  the  chief  source 
for  the  text  of  the  earlier  essays  has  been  the  American  reprint 
of  1838-1839.  It  has  seemed  best  to  include  the  essa}^s  published 
before  August,  1834,  the  date  of  the  appearance  of  the  last  in- 
stalment of  Sartor  as  a  magazine  article,  rather  than  to  draw 
the  line  at  August,  1831,  when  Carlyle  was  unsuccessfully 
hawking  his  completed  manuscript  among  the  London  book- 
sellers. For,  although  he  may  have  left  his  sheets  unrevised 
upon  the  shelf,  in  the  interim,  it  was  hardly  like  him  to  do  so, 
and  there  is  abundant  evidence  that  the  essays  which  appeared 
nearest  to  the  publication  of  Sartor  were  written  with  his  greater 
work  freshly  before  him.  They,  at  least,  profited  by  the  juxta- 
position of  their  elder  brother.  The  date  of  first  publication, 
then,  is  adopted,  as  furnishing  a  definite  basis  of  reckoning. 
The  hack-work  done  in  earlier  years   for    Brewster's   Encyclo- 

(i)     MacMechan's  .S.  i^.,  xxi. 


4:  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

psedia  has  been  cursorily  dismissed,  because,  on  inspection,    its 
value  seemed  small    for   the   purpose    in   hand.      So,    too,    the 
unfinished  novel  "  Wotton  Reinfred,"  and  Carlyle's  Diary,  both 
used  by  Professor  MacMechan,  have  not  been  here  considered. 
A*iiptfe'^t''^h'eJ  close  of  the  essay  refers  to  one   or  two  other 
books''  consulted*  fef  €#• 
'.    I  j;TlW  ^to^ingressays  have  been  examined   in  the  prepara- 
*tSD&*6£ih{s  study;.:  SFhe-U^fe  of  Friedrich  Schiller,  originally  pub- 
lished in  the  London  Magazine,  October,  1823,  to  September,  1824, 
published  in  book  form,  London,  1825,  reprinted  in  America  in 
1833,  and  in  1846,  the  last-named  American  edition  being  used 
h.Qr&\n;  Jean  Paxil Friedrich  Richter,  first  printed  in  the  Edinburgh 
Review,  June,  1827;  State   of  Germa?i    Literature,   Edinburgh 
Review,  October,  1827;    Life  and  Writings  of  Weryier,  Foreign 
Review,  January,  1828;   Goethe's  Helena,  Foreign  Review,  April, 
1828;    Goethe,  Foreign  Review,  July,    1828;    Buryis,   Edinburgh 
Review,  December,  1828;    The  Life  of  Heyne,'Pore.\gn   Review, 
October,  1828;   German  Playwrights ,  Foreign  Review,  January, 
1829;     Voltaire,  Foreign  Review,  April,  1829;  Novalis,  Foreign 
Review,  July,  1829;  Signs  of  the  Times,  Edinburgh  Review,  June, 
\Z2<^;  fea7i  Paul  Friedrich  Richter  Again,  Foreign  Review,  Jan- 
uary, 1830;   0)1  Histoiy,    Eraser's    Magazine,   November,    1830; 
Lnther's  Psalm,  Eraser's  Magazine,  January,  1831;  Schiller,  Era- 
ser's Magazine,  March,  1831;  The  Nibehingen  Lied,  Westminster 
Review,  Jul}^  1831;    German   Literature  of  the  Foiirtee7ith   and 
Fifteenth  Centuries,  Foreign  Quarterly  Review,  October,    1831; 
Taylor' s  Historic  Survey  of  German  Poetry,  Edinburgh  Review, 
March,    1831;     Characteristics,    Edinburgh    Review,   December, 
1831  ;     Goethe's   Portrait,    Eraser's    Magazine,     March,     1832  ; 
Biography,  Eraser's  Magazine,   April,    1832;    BosiveW s  Life   of 
Johnson,  Eraser's  Magazine,  May,  1832;  Death  of  Goethe,   New 
Monthly    Magazine,    June,     1832 ;      Goethe' s     Works,     Foreign 
Quarterly    Review,    August,    1832;    Corn-Law   Rhymes,    Edin- 
burgh Review,  July,  1832;  Diderot,  Foreign  Quarterly  Review, 
April,  1833;   0)1  Histo?y  Agai?i,  Eraser's  Magazine,  May,  1833; 
Count   Cagliostro,   Eraser's  Magazine,  July  and  August,    1S33. 
In  addition  to  the  above-named,  all  of  which  appear  in  the  Ameri- 
can reprint,  there  is  a  translation  in  Eraser's  Magazine,  Febru- 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  5 

ary  and  May,  1830,  of  Jean  Paid  Friedrich  Richtcr' s  Revieiv  of 
Madame  de  Slael's  Allemagne,  which  has  been  consulted,  as  also 
the  brief  paper  on  Schiller,  Goethe  aiid  Madame  de  Stael  in 
Fraser,  March,  1832. 

The  text  of  Sartor  used  as  the  basis  of  reference  is  that  of 
Professor  MacMechan's  edition  of  the  work,  Boston,  1896.  Too 
much  can  hardly  be  said  in  praise  of  the  path-finding  of  this 
pioneer  among  the  underbrush  of  Carlyle's  learning,  and,  if  it 
is  not  here  more  frequently  commended  in  detail,  it  is  because  a 
single  hearty  acknowledgment  is  left  to  bear  the  greater  part  of 
the  burden  of  obligation.  But,  whenever  an  extract  is  used 
previously  cited  by  Professor  MacMechan,  due  credit  is  given, 
although,  it  is  fair  to  say,  the  wealth  of  material  at  hand  is  so 
great  that  such  repetition  has  been  seldom  necessary. 

A  natural  order  of  procedure  will  be  to  consider  first  the 
matter  and  manner  of  Sartor  Resartus  as  a  whole,  and,  after 
these  general  considerations,  to  descend  to  an  inspection  of  the 
work,  chapter  by  chapter,  in  its  relation  to  the  earlier  essays. 
It  is  true  that  the  more  salient  resemblances  concern  the  set- 
ting which  Carlyle  chose  to  give  his  thought,  and  that  the  de- 
tails of  this  setting —  as  the  use  of  the  German  professor  as 
mouth-piece  —  appear  full-grown  in  those  essays  nearly  preced- 
ing the  appearance  of  Saiior  itself.  But  in  the  second  if  the 
more  tedious  portion  of  this  study  there  is  abundant  evidence 
that  the  author  had  been  nursing  his  thoughts  for  years  before 
they  found  utterance  in  his  most  characteristic  work. 

The  fundamental  assertion  of  Carlyle's  treatise  on  clothes 
is  that  spirit  is  the  central  reality.  Characteristically,  more 
space  is  given  in  the  earlier  essays  to  upbraiding  the  present 
age  for  its  materialistic  tendencies  than  to  the  enforcement  of 
the  essential  nature  of  spirit.  But,  as  early  as  1827,  in  defend- 
ing the  Germans  against  the  charge  of  mysticism,  Carlyle  said: 
"  In  the  field  of  human  investigation,  there  are  objects  of  two 
sorts  :  First,  the  visible,  including  not  only  such  as  are  material 
and  may  be  seen  b}^  the  bodily  eye  ;  but  all  such,  likewise,  as 
ma}'  be  represented  in  a  shape,  before  the  mind's  eye,  or  in  an}- 
way  pictured  there  :  And,  secondly,  the  invisible,  or  such  as 
are  not  only  unseen  b}'  human  e3'es,  but  as  cannot    be    seen    by 


6  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

any  eye  ;  not  objects  of  sense  at  all  ;  not  capable,  in  short,  of 
ho^iw^  pictured  or  imaged  in  the  mind,  or  in  any  way  represent- 
ed by  a  shape  either  without  the  mind  or  within  it.  If 
any  man  shall  here  turn  upon  us,  and  assert  that  there 
are  no  such  invisible  objects  ;  that  whatever  cannot  be  so  pic- 
tured or  imagined  (meaning  imaged)  is  nothing,  and  the 
science  that  relates  to  it  is  nothing  ;  we  shall  regret  the  circum- 
stance. We  shall  request  him,  however,  to  consider  seriously 
and  deeply  within  himself  what  he  means  simply  by  these  two 
words,  God  and  his  own  Soul  ;  and  whether  he  finds  that  vis- 
ible shape  and  true  existence  are  here  also  one  and  the  same  ? 
If  he  still  persist  in  denial,  we  have  nothing  for  it  but  to  wish  him 
good  speed  on  his  own  separate  path  of  inquiry  ;  and  he  and 
we  will  agree  to  differ  on  this  subject  of  mysticism,  as  on  so 
many  more  important  ones."*''  The  Kantian  philosophy  is, 
in  continuance,  stoutly  defended,  although  Carlyle  does  not 
pretend  to  mastery  of  the  subject.  The  passage  quoted  may 
stand  as  an  indication  of  the  writer's  growing  regard  for  the 
transcendental  philosophj^  although  this  passage  does  not 
stand  alone.  Besides  the  parallels  to  particular  portions  of 
Sartor,  to  be  cited  later,  we  find  Carlyle,  on  two  occasions, 
showing  his  position  as  regards  the  great  fact  of  spirit  by  assail- 
ing those  who  hold  opposite  views.  ^^^  It  was  in  the  early  liter- 
ature of  Germany  that  he  found  an  acceptance  of  spiritual 
realities  which  was  lacking  among  his  contemporaries,  and  he 
looked  forward  to  the  return  of  a  national  literature  in  England 
that  should  grow  out  of  spiritual  life.^s)  Other  citations  may  be 
made,*'*)  but  perhaps  it  will  suffice  hereto  call  attention  to  a 
potent  remark  of  Richter's,  translated  by  Carlyle,  referring  to 
"this  material  world,  whose  life,  foundation,  and  essence  is 
Spirit!  "(5) 

That  his  age  is  materialistic,  "mechanical",  utilitarian,  is 
to  Carlyle  an  ever-depressing  fact,  not  to  be  blinked  nor  pal- 
liated. In  the  essay  Characteristics,  religion,  literature,  and 
philosophy  are  found  to  be  tainted  with  the  current  mechanical 


(I)  G  I,  76  and  77.     (2)  TS  30;  D  375.     (3)  E  G  I,  44S.     (4)  As   Ch  58,  11.   29-31  ;  E  G  I. 
400.  1.  32  ;  N  1,  342,   1.  24.     (5)  J  A  182. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  7 

tendency,  and  elsewhere  the  father  of  the  movement  is  called 
by  name :  "From  Locke's  time  downwards,  our  whole 
Metaphysics  have  been  physical ;  not  a  spiritual  Philosophy, 
but  a  material  one.  The  singular  estimation  in  which  his 
essay  was  so  long  held  as  a  scientific  work,  (for  the  character 
of  the  man  entitled  all  he  said  to  veneration,)  will  one  day  be 
thought  a  curious  indication  of  the  spirit  of  these  times.  His 
whole  doctrine  is  mechanical,  in  its  aim  and  origin,  in  its 
methods  and  its  results.  It  is  a  mere  discussion  concerning 
the  origin  of  our  consciousness,  or  ideas,  or  whatever  else  they 
are  called  ;  a -genetic  history  of  what  we  see  in  the  mind.  But 
the  grand  secrets  of  Necessity  and  Free-will,  of  the  mind's  vital 
or  non-vital  dependence  on  matter,  of  our  mysterious  relations 
to  Time  and  Space,  to  God,  to  the  universe,  are  not,  in  the  faint- 
est degree,  touched  on  in  these  inquiries  ;  and  seem  not  to  have 
the  smallest  connection  with  them."^'^  Time  and  again  Car- 
lyle  rails  at  "our  new  Tower-of-Babel  era,"^^'  in  which  politics, 
like  all  the  rest,  proves  man's  faith  in  mechanism. ^-^^  It  is 
worth  noting  that  here  too  Richter  had  preceded  Carlyle,  say- 
ing, as  translated  by  the  latter:  "Our  present  time  ...  is 
indeed  a  criticising  and  critical  time,  hovering  between  the 
wish  and  the  inability  to  believe. "('^^ 

As  corollary  to  faith  in  spiritual  truth  is  the  proposition 
that  the  understanding  is  powerless  to  reach  and  to  grasp  such 
truth.  In  Carlyle's  own  words  :  "  To  him,  for  whom  '■intellect, 
or  the  power  of  knowing  and  believing  is  still  sj^nonymous  with 
logic,  or  the  mere  power  of  arranging  and  communicating,' 
there  is  absolutely  no  proof  discoverable  of  a  Divinity.  "(?^  And 
again,  in  another  application  :  "  For  if  the  Poet,  or  Priest,  or  by 
whatever  title  the  inspired  thinker  may  be  named,  is  fhe  sign 
of  vigor  and  well-being  ;  so  likewise  is  the  Logician,  or  unin- 
spired thinker,  the  sign  of  disease,  probably  of  decrepitude  and 
decay.  "('^^  This  doctrine  is  derived  from  the  Kantian  philo- 
soph3%  as  is  made  clear  more  than  once.(">  Carlyle  makes  no 
room  for  "the  mere  logician", (^)  but  consistently  holds:      "  Of 

(i)  ST  152.  (2)GW26S.  (3)  ST  154,  157  ;  V  I  ;  H  257.  I.  16;  Ch69.  90;  B0145,  11- 
9,  10  ;  D359,  1,  24.     (4)  N  142.       (5)0362.     (b)Ch62.        (7)  G  L  89,   Ch.   89.        (S)    C  C    26" 


8       The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

final  causes,  man,  by  the  nature  of  the  case,  Q2.xi  prove  nothing; 
knows  them  (if  he  know  anything  of  them)  not  by  glimmering 
flint-sparks  of  logic,  but  by  an  infinitely  higher  light  of  intui- 
tion. "''^  In  his  earliest  considerable  work  concerning  German 
literature,  there  are  traces  of  the  same  belief. <^) 

In  pursuit  of  what  may  be  called  the  philosophy  of  Sartor 
Resartus,  there  are  several  minor  doctrines  that  deserve  mention. 
One  of  these  concerns  the  dualistic  nature  of  man.  Professor 
Diogenes  Teufelsdrockh  illustrates  this  quality:  "However, 
in  Teufelsdrockh,  there  is  always  the  strangest  Dualism  :  light 
dancing,  with  guitar-music,  will  be  going  on  in  the  fore-court, 
while  by  fits  from  within  comes  the  faint  whimpering  of  woe 
and  wail."*3)  Again,  Teufelsdrockh  had  "  the  look  truly  of  an 
angel,  though  whether  of  a  white  or  of  a  black  one  might  be 
dubious. "^'^^  Indeed,  the  meaning  of  the  Professor's  name 
(Born-of-Zeus  Devirs-Dung),(5)  and  the  whole  treatment  of  the 
character,  are  intended  to  make  prominent  that  combination  of 
heavenward  and  earthward  tendencies  which  Carlyle  saw  in 
every  human  being.  "  What,  indeed,  is  man's  life  generally 
but  a  kind  of  beast-godhood  ;  the  god  in  us  triumphing  more 
and  more  over  the  beast  ;  striving  more  and  more  to  subdue  it 
under  his  feet  ?  Did  not  the  Ancients,  in  their  wise,  perennially 
significant  way,  figure  Nature  herself,  their  sacred  All  or  Pan, 
as  a  portentous  commingling  of  these  two  discords  ;  as  musical, 
humane,  oracular  in  its  upper  part,  yet  ending  below  in  the 
cloven,  hairy  feet  ?  The  union  of  melodious,  celestial  Freewill 
and  Reason,  with  foul  Irrationality  and  L,ust ;  in  which,  never- 
theless, dwelt  a  mysterious  unspeakable  Fear  and  half-mad  panic 
Awe ;  as  for  mortals  there  well  might  !  And  is  not  man  a 
microcosm,  or  epitomized  mirror  of  that  same  universe  .  .  .  ?"^<') 
Boswell,  Johnson,  Diderot,  and  manj'  another  subject,  furnish 
further  illustrations  of  this  doctrine,  and  the  essays  are  dotted 
with  allusions  to  it.^'^  That  it  has  colored  even  Carlyle's  man- 
ner of  expression  will  be  shown  when  his  st3'le  is  considered. 

(1)0363.  See  also  367,  1.  34.  (2)  L  S  68;  143,  1.  7.  (3)  S  R  i6g,  23.  See  also  136.  21; 
148,33  ff:  1S6,  14  &  13;  249,  10;  ff;  265,  25.  (4)  SR  12,  11;  Also  214,  2.  (5)  For  the  signifi- 
cance of  names,  see  S  R  77  &  78;  Also  144.  19.  (6)  Bo  129.  Cited  by  M,  p.  377.  See  also 
S  R  5S,  1-15;  106,  33  &  34;  115.  31  ff;  117,  22  ff;  131,  2;  190,  12;  201,  16  ff;  217,  2S;  220,  S  ff;  221, 
22-222,5;  2.36.  J I  "ff.  (7)  See  L  S  187,  13;  254,22.  Also  Bi  98,  7;  Bo  115,  3;  145,  17;  D  36S,  5; 
H  A  38S,  21;  V  38. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  9 

Meantime,  there  is  opportunity  to  observe  that,  in  Carlyle's 
view,  life,  in  consequence  of  the  dualism  of  human  nature,  is  a 
battle.  The  necessity  which  wars  against  man's  free-will  is  the 
occasion  of  his  temptations,  and  may  be  the  occasion  of  his 
struggle  and  final  victory. (')  Our  life  "  is  an  internecine  war- 
fare with  the  Time-spirit."*^)  Naturally,  the  quality  that  ap- 
peals, then,  to  Carlyle,  is  not  that  of  "the  vulgar  Do-nothing," 
or  man  whose  circumstances  do  not  compel  him  to  fight  hard 
against  them,  but  rather  of  him,  although  ill-equipped,  yet 
being  a  "  man  of  uncommon  character  ...  in  whom  a  germ  of 
irrepressible  Force  has  been  implanted,  and  will  unfold  itself 
into  some  sort  of  freedom . "  (^) 

Closely  related  to  the  view  of  life  as  a  battle  is  the  famous 
"  Gospel  of  Work,"  for  it  is  by  labor  that  man  re-acts  strongly 
upon  his  circumstances.  It  is  not  necessary  here  to  expound 
that  cure  for  despondency  which  forms  the  practical  issue  of  the 
famous  chapter  upon  "The  Everlasting  Yea, ' '  but  rather  to  show 
that  this  doctrine  of  Sartor  was  anticipated  in  the  earlier  essays. 
As  it  happens,  the  most  striking  parallels  are  in  essays  that 
were  written  between  the  date  of  the  completion  of  Sartor  and 
the  date  of  its  publication.  *4)  But  as  early  as  the  Life  of  Schiller 
Carlyle  said  :  "  Nine-tenths  of  the  miseries  and  vices  of  man- 
kind proceed  from  idleness,  "*'')  and  predicted  his  trumpet-call 
to  turn  sentiment  into  action,  in  these  weaker  words:  "Our 
feelings  are  in  favor  of  heroism  ;  we  wish  to  be  pure  and  perfect. 
Happy  he  whose  resolutions  are  so  strong,  or  whose  temptations 
are  so  weak,  that  he  can  convert  these  feelings  into  action  !  "(^) 
There  are  other  parallels  which  will  appear  in  their  proper 
place. ('')  There  is  room  here  for  but  another  small  quotation 
from  Richter,  speaking  of  "perennial,  fire-proof  Joys,  namely, 
Employments,"^^'  which  probably  performed  its  share  in  sug- 
gesting or  confirming  the  new  gospel. 

Turning  now  from  recounting  some  of  the  main  ideas  of 
Sartor,  let  us  next  examine  the  devices  of  form  by  which  its 
ideas  were  brought  before  the  public.     Chief   among    these,    of 

(i)  S  R  i66,  13-19.  (2)  S  R  176,  32.  See  also  77,  32;  154,  12;  167,  6  &  20.  (3)  C  R  273.  See 
also  C  R,  271,  32;  274;  Bo,  177,  16.  (4)  Bo  143-145  ;  C  R  276-277  ;  302.  (5^  L  S  62.  (6)  L  S  230. 
(7)  See  second  part  of  this  essay,  under  ,S  R  143,  16  ;  149,27;    177,31;    179,   5.     (8)  J  A   220. 


10  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

course,  is  the  conception  of  the  mysterious  German  professor, 
whose  transcendentalism  and  uncouthness  made  him  a  fatting 
mouth-piece  for  Carlyle's  most  daring  thoughts  couched  in  his 
most  rugged  words.  There  was  evident!)^  great  satisfaction  to 
our  author  in  using  a  fictitious  personage  to  express  his  boldest 
inventions,  for,  although  he  does  not  summon  Professor  Teu- 
felsdrockh  by  name  in  his  essay-writing  until  after  the  comple- 
tion of  the  manuscript  of  Sartor,  yet,  after  he  has  once  discover- 
ed the  virtues  of  a  spokesman,  he  calls  upon  him,  under  one  title 
or  another,  to  utter  whatever  too  startling  declaration  he  has  to 
make.  The  earliest  case  of  Carlyle  quoting  from  himself  is  in 
the  essay  on  Goethe,  1828,  when  he  introduces  five  pages  of  re- 
printed matter  as  written  "by  a  professed  admirer  of  Goethe  ; 
nay,  as  might  almost  seem,  by  a  grateful  learner,  whom  he  had 
taught,  whom  he  had  helped  to  lead  out  of  spiritual  obstruction, 
into  peace  and  light." ^'^  And  this  early  example  of  self- 
quotation  is  accompanied  by  the  critical  discrimination,  as  from 
a  superior  on-looker,  with  which  in  Sartor  we  are  so  familiar : 
"Making  due  allowance  for  all  this,  there  is  little  in  the  paper 
that  we  object  to."^'^  There  is  a  similar  example  of  self-quo- 
tation in  1830,  concerning  Richter.^'^  It  is  not  until  1832  that 
the  German  professor  appears,  and  then  under  the  name  "Gott- 
fried Sauer-teig"  (Peace-of-God  Sour-Dough),  evidentl}^  con- 
structed with  the  dualistic  intent  that  prompted  that  of  his 
successor.  Moreover,  both  "Teufelsdrockh"  and  "Sauerteig" 
have  remedial  intent,  the  former  as  "a  kind  of  medicinal  assa- 
y(?^/2Va,"(2)  and  the  latter  as  a  source  of  yeast}^  fermentation; 
such  as  is  produced  hy  the  corresponding  Yankee  "empt'in's." 
^'^^  Three  pages  of  Sauerteig' s,  containing  much  that  is  parallel 
to  passages  in  Sartor,  are  quoted,  ostensibl)"  from  the  ''Aisthet- 
ische  Springwurzel  -M^  a  Work,  perhaps,  as  3'et  new  to  most  Eng- 
lish readers. "*5)  Herr  Sauerteig  appears  in  at  least  two  other 
essays,  (^)  but  in  the  year  of  his  debut  emerges  also,  for  the  first 

(1)6273.  See  also  J  A  224-229.  (2)  Letter  to  J.  Carlj'le,  July  17,  1S31,  quoted  by 
M,  p.  2S2.  See  also  German  dictionarj-,  under  "Teufelsdroeckh."  ('3)  See  Lowell's 
"Biglow  Papers,"  Poems,  Household  Ed.  1SS5,  p.  233  and  Glossary.  (4)  In  J  R  34, 
"Springwuerzel"  is  explained  in  a  note,  signed  "T"  :  "The  'little  blue  flame.'  the 
"Springwuerzel"  (start-root),  etc.,  etc.,  are  well-known  phenomena  in  miners'  magic' ' 
(%)  Bi  loi.     (6)  Bo  132  ;  C  C  1-4,  12,  27,  71^. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  11 

time,  "Herr  Professor  Teufelsdreck,"  whose  name  is  still  to 
undergo  a  slight  change  of  spelling.  The  professor  is  charac- 
terized as  '"A  continental  Humorist,  of  deep-piercing,  resolute, 
though  strangely  perverse  faculty,  whose  works  are  as  yet  but 
sparingly  if  at  all  cited  in  English  literature;"  and,  most  note- 
worthy fact,  the  several  pages  of  quotation  are  assigned  to  a  work 
with  which  all  readers  of  5ar/(?r  are  familiar, — ''Die  Kleider:  ihr 
Werdemmd  Wirken,'''  published  at  "Weissnichtwo"  by  the 
now  celebrated  institution,  called  here  "Stillschweign'sche 
Buchhandlung."('^  Again,  "our  assiduous  'D.  T.'  "  permits  to 
be  printed  a  part  of  his  "Inaugural  Discourse  ...  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Commo7i  Ho?icstj.'"^^'i  But 
more  frequently  he  masks  under  some  general  designation  ;  as, 
"an  observer,  not  without  experience  of  our  time, "*3)  or  "a 
Scottish  Humorist. "(-^^  Other  examples  of  self-quotation  are 
not  wanting,  (5)  perhaps  the  most  striking  of  which  is  the  pass- 
age ascribed  to  "Smelfungus  Redivivus,<^>  whose  Latin 
cognomen  may  have  been  suggested  by  Goethe's  compliment 
to  Madam  von  Wollzogen's  Life  of  Schiller.  (7)  On  one  occasion, 
"Bishop  Dogbolt"  serves  as  the  type  of  smooth-tongued 
preacher,  in  antithesis  to  the  Apostle  Paul.^^^ 

Professor  MacMechan  has  shown,  by  abundant  quotation, 
that  Carlyle  made  "canny  "  use  of  his  unfinished  novel,  lVotto?i 
Reinfred^  to  furnish  details  of  Teufelsdrockh's  biography.  It 
is  further  evident  that  the  German  professor  is  in  part  autobi- 
ographic in  origin.  His  spiritual  struggles  have  their  counter- 
part in  the  life  of  Carlyle.  More  than  this,  the  qualities  promi- 
nent in  the  fictitious  man  are  those  that  Carlyle  had  been 
praising  for  years  in  the  German  and  other  authors  his  maga- 
zine-work called  upon  him  to  estimate.  These  qualities  too,  it 
is  safe  to  say,  are  largel}'  those  of  Carlyle  himself,  for  he  was 
not  Shakespearean  but  rather  Miltonic  in  temperament.''?^  If 
one  could  take  a  composite  photograph  of  the  whole  of  Carlyle's 
literary  criticism,  one  would  find  that  the  strongest  lines  of  the 

(i)  GW  209-214.  (2)  H  A  382.  (3)  CR274.  (4)  CC31.  (5)  G  W  264;  D  371,  3. 
(6)  C  R  269.  Professor  MacMechan  suggests  that  Carlyle  got  the  first  part  of  this  name 
from  Sterne,  who,  in  his  Sentimental  Journey,  calls  Smollett  ''  Smelfungus."  (7)  L,  S  6: 
"Schiller  Redivivus."  (  .S)D  357.  (9)  As  example  of  his  inability  to  write  in  two  styles, 
see  the   alleged  publisher's   note,  S  R  10. 


12  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

picture  would  give  an  authentic  sketch-portrait  of  Diogenes 
Teufelsdrockh.  Thus  there  is  perhaps  no  single  question  more 
frequently  asked  by  Carlyle  concerning  the  book  to  be  reviewed 
than,  "  Has  the  author  humor  ?  "  This  humor,  so  assiduously 
sought,  may  be  cynical,  grim,  or  even  coarse,  but,  if  found,  it 
is  praised;  if  absent,  its  absence  is  condemned.  Humor  is 
"  the  surest  sign  (as  is  often  said)  of  a  character  naturally 
great. "(')  That  Carlyle  consciously  endowed  his  Diogenes  with 
this  saving  quality  is  shown  by  the  account  of  the  Professor's 
famous  instance  of  laughter,  and,  hardly  less  emphatically,  in 
a  passage  crediting  him,  "whether  he  have  humour  himself  or 
not,"  with  "a  certain  feeling  of  the  ludicrous. "<2'  Without 
these  guides,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  one  can  read  the  chapter 
on  "  Old  Clothes,"  the  opening  paragraphs  of  "  The  Dandiacal 
Body,"  the  solemn  apostrophe  to  the  squatting  tailor, <3)  or 
the  Swiftian  lyatin  epitaph,  without  recognizing  a  permeating 
humor,  which  ma}^  at  times  be  satirical  or  quite  vulgar,  but 
which  is  always  easily  to  be  distinguished  from  mere  wit,  a 
quality  which,  even  in  Voltaire,  Carlyle  despised. (-^^  Some  of 
the  numerous  examples  in  the  essays  of  the  commendation  of 
humor,  and  the  dispraise  of  its  lack,  may  well  be  cited,  ^s)  it 
will  be  observed,  in  these  examples,  that  the  kind"  of  humor 
most  frequently  praised  is,  like  the  Professor's,  rude,  genuine, 
and  strong,  serving,  on  occasion,  as  the  medium  of  carriage  for 
some  deeper  thought  or  spiritual  truth. 

Other  qualities  praised  in  the  earlier  essays,  are  figura- 
tiveness,  irony,  force,  downright  sincerity,  ^^^  all  of  which,  to- 
gether with  humor,  might  be  fused  into  the  expression  of  a 
single  word,  if  we  had  it,  that  could  be  aptly  applied  to  the 
utterances  of  the  Professor,  as  well  as  to  Carlyle  himself. 

But  it  is  too  much  to  say  that  the  whole  of  Teufelsdrockh 
is  drawn  from  Carlyle 's  inner  consciousness.  We  remember 
his  assertion  to  the  contrary-,  and  grant  it  a  full  proportion  of 
truth. <^)  Both  Goethe  and  Schiller  had  spiritual  experiences 
similar  to  the  Professor's,^^)  though  Schiller  made  no  such  de- 
cree 17.  (2)SR42,  25.  (3)  S  R  263,  34  ff.  (4)V6i.  (5)  I.  S  157;  J  i5  &  i6;  B  311; 
S  302;  E  G  L  402,  405,  418,  440;  Bo  193;  C  R  2SS;  C  C  67.  (6)  G  W  262;  E  G  I,  440;  L  S  226, 
232;  Cf.  1,331,  25  ff.     (7)  But  see  M  xxiii,  III.     (S)  S&ei  IVeriker,  Meisier,X,S  6-j-(>^. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  13 

cisive  conquest  of  doubt.  It  is  easy  to  push  such  comparisons 
too  far,  and  hard  to  say,  concerning  details,  what  was  the  orig- 
inal suggestion  of  each.  Thus  it  is  probably  a  mere  coinci- 
dence that  the  circumstances  of  Schiller's  parents  were  like 
those  of  young  Diogenes. ^'>  But  that  single  uproarious  laugh 
of  Samuel  Johnson's^^>  is  likely  to  have  had  some  relation  to 
the  professorial  cacchination,  though  not,  according  to  Carlyle 
himself,  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect. *^^^  Also  it  maybe  said, 
as  of  Johnson,  so  of  Teufelsdrockh  :  "  Within  that  shaggy  ex- 
terior of  his,  there  beat  a  heart  warm  as  a  mother's,  soft  as  a 
little  child's. "("^^  The  fact  seems  to  be  that  the  German  profes- 
sor was  made  by  a  process  of  gradual  accretion,  through  years 
of  reading,  writing,  observation,  and  inner  experience. 

Concerning  a  few  smaller   devices,    a    word    may    be   said. 
The  "  Green  Goose  "  tavern,  a  Lokal  in  Munich, (5)  appears  not 
only  in  its  German  guise  in  Sartor,  but  also  elsewhere  in  plain 
English. (^)     So   with  "Things   in   general. "(7)      And   there  is 
mention  of  a  typical  being,  whose  satiric  name  suggests  Hofrath 
Heuschrecke,    and   whose   decorations    forecast    the    ridiculed   \ 
dandy  :     "  The  Count  von  Biigeleisen,  so  idolized  by  our  fa.sh-     ' 
ionable  classes,  is  not,  as   the    English    Swift    asserts,    created 
wholly  by  the  tailor  ;  but  partially,   also,    by   the    supernatural     I 
Powers.  "*^^ 

That  particular  device  which  deserves  to  rank  equal  with 
the  Professor  himself  is  the  clothes-idea  ;  indeed,  in  some  as- 
pects this  idea  is  the  central  point  from  which  all  the  rays  of 
Sartor  diverge.  It  is  interesting  to  observe,  noting  the  essaj^s 
in  chronological  order,  how  the  clothes-idea  gradually  takes  on 
a  more  and  more  significant  phase,  until  in  the  later  essays, 
when  the  completed  Sartor  is  awaiting  publication,  Carlyle  does 
not  hesitate  to  use  many  of  the  specific  applications  of  this  idea. 
In  1828,  about  two  years  before  Sartor  was  begun,  the  following 
passage  appeared,  w^hich,  while  not  distinctly  hinting  at  the 
deeper  aspects  of  the  clothes  philosoph}^  might  still  be  a  quota- 
tion from  the  later  work  :  "  We  could  fancy  we  saw  some  Bond- 
street  tailor  criticising    the    costume    of   some    ancient    Greek ; 

(i)  L  S  12.  (2)  Bo  175.  (3)  See  M's  note  on  S  R  2S,  32.  (4)  Bo  1S5.  (5)  M's  note  on 
S  R  12,  7.     (6;  C  C  34,  S.     (7)  C  C  48,  29.     (8)  G  W  213. 


14  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

censuring  the  highly  improper  cut  of  collar  and  lappel ;  lament- 
ing, indeed,  that  collar  and  lappel  were  nowhere  to  be  seen. 
He  pronounces  the  costume,  easily  and  decisively,  to  be  a 
barbarous  one  :  to  know  whether  it  is  a  barbarous  one,  and  how 
barbarous,  the  judgment  of  a  Winkelmann  might  be  required, 
and  he  would  find  it  hard  to  give  a  judgment.  For  the  ques- 
tions set  before  the  two  were  radically  different.  The  Fraction 
asked  himself :  '  How  will  this  look  in  Almack's,  and  before 
Lord  Mahogany  ? '  The  Winkelmann  asked  himself :  '  How 
will  this  look  in  the  Universe,  and  before  the  Creator  of 
Man  ? '  "(')  This,  not  of  clothing  for  its  own  sake,  but  in  urg- 
ing Englishmen  to  approach  the  study  of  Goethe  with  a 
sympathy  that  should  over-ride  national  prejudice.  It  is  in  his 
translation  from  Richter  that  Carlyle  is  induced  to  use  his  fav- 
orite word  "hull,"  and  in  a  metaphorical  sense,  as  equivalent 
to  "  body:"  "  Father,  take  thy  son  from  this  bleeding  hull,  and 
lift  him  to  thy  heart !  "^^^  A  little  later  we  find  the  same  word 
uttered  more  in  Sartorian  vein:  "Of  the  Ecclesiastical  His- 
torian we  have  to  complain  .  .  .  that  his  inquiries  turn  rather 
on  the  outward  mechanism,  the  mere  hulls  and  superficial  ac- 
cidents of  the  object,  than  on  the  object  itself."^')  In  1831, 
about  the  time  of  the  completion  of  the  first  draft  of  Sartor,  its 
whole  philosophy  is  condensed  into  a  few  words  of  praise  for 
Hugo  von  Trimberg,'4>  who  had  "  light  to  see  beyond  the  gar- 
ments and  outer  hulls  of  L,ife  into  Life  itself. "(5)  It  is  hardly 
worth  while  to  quote  several  illustrative  passages  from  the  later 
essa3'S,  for,  although  some  of  them  are  much  more  striking  than 
those  given,  in  so  far  as  their  resemblance  to  Sarto7'  is  con- 
cerned, they  are  always  open  to  the  suspicion  of  having  been 
borrowed  from  the  patient  manuscript  upon  the  shelf,  and  thus 
being  of  later  origin.'^)  Perhaps  the  most  striking  passage  of 
this  later  sort  is  the  page-long  paragraph  in  the  essaj'  on  Goethe's  . 
Works,  in  which,  under  the  clothes-figure,  the  difference  is 
expounded  between  the  man  of  fashion  or  of  empty  knowledge, 
and  the  man  of  genius,  between  "  God-creation  and  tailor-crea- 
tion. "(■) 

(1)0285.  cf.  J  A  243,  3.  (2)  J  A  241.  (3)  H  254.  (4)  SR164,  26.  (5)  E  G  L  400. 
(6)30130,19:  144,26;  189,1-10;  G  W  258,12;  C  C  2,  24;  33,  10;  39,  12  ff.  See  also 
B  301,  24  ;  J   A  200,  23  ;  N  L,  350,  and  note ;  T  S  36,  4.     (7)  G  W  213  and  214. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  15 

One  more  topic  of  general  sort  calls  for  brief  treatment,  — 
the  style  in  which  Sartor  is  written.  It  is  hardl}'  possible,  in 
this  connection,  to  ignore  the  question  of  Carlyle's  indebtedness 
to  German  literature  in  general,  and  to  Richter  in  particular, 
although  no  pretence  can  be  made  to  settle  in  a  few  sentences 
a  matter  of  discussion  that  has  ranged  men  like  Froude  and 
Lowell  on  opposite  sides.  At  the  one  extreme  stand  those  who 
champion  Carlyle's  originality  of  manner,  and  follow,  with- 
out qualification,  the  author's  own  statement,  made  in  con- 
v^ersation,  that  his  style  had  its  origin  in  his  father's  house.*'' 
At  the  other  extreme  stand  those  who  believe  that  Carlyle  imi- 
tated Richter,  and  adopted,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  cer- 
tain other  Germanisms  into  his  manner.  (^^  Is  it  not  possible 
that  both  these  opposites,  which  are  \-et  not  contradictories,  may 
be  true,  and  the  full  statement  of  fact  take  account  of 
both  ?  Some  qualities  in  which  Carlyle  resembles  Richter,  not 
mentioned  by  Professor  MacMechan,'-^^  are  riotous  humor, 
occasional  coarseness,''*^  almost  absolute  sincerit3%  and  a  for- 
bidding grotesqueness,(5)  which  at  times  seems  chaotic,  but 
which  yields  to  the  attentive  reader  glimpses  of  uplifting  and  un- 
usual thought.  A  passage  describing  Richter's  style,  less  often 
quoted  than  another, (^)  is  not  inapplicable  to  Sartor  :  "Piercing 
gleams  of  thought  do  not  escape  us  ;  singular  truths,  conveyed 
in  a  form  as  singular  ;  grotesque,  and  often  truly  ludicrous  de- 
lineations ;  pathetic,  magnificent,  far-sounding  passages ; 
effusions  full  of  wit,  knowledge,  and  imagination,  but  difficult 
to  bring  under  any  rubric  whatever;  al!  the  elements,  in  short, 
of  a  glorious  intellect,  but  dashed  together  in  such  wild  arrange- 
ment, that  their  order  seems  the  very  ideal  of  confusion.  The 
style  and  structure  of  the  book  appear  alike  incomprehensible. 
The  narrative  is  every  now  and  then  suspended,  to  make  way 
for  some  'Bxtra-leaf, '  some  wild  digression  upon  any  subject 
but  the  one  in  hand  ;  the  language  groans  with  indescribable 
metaphors,  and  allusions  to  all   things   human   and   divine. "^^^ 

(i)Mxlvii.  So,  substantiaHj-.  J.  A.  S.  Barrett,  in  his  edition  of  Sailor,  London, 
tS97,  pp.  15-1S.  (2)  See  Lowell,  J\/y  Study  IViiidows,  Boston,  iSSS,  pp.  124,  126.  (3)  M 
xlviii.  (4)  For  a  combination  of  humor  and  coarseness,  see  S  R  54  and  120.  For  similar 
qualities  in  Richter,  see  J  A  235.  (5)  Cf  N  82,  20.  (6)  J  13.  (7)  J  A  224  ff.  See  also  J  A 
174,  229. 


16  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

Given  a  man  by  temperament  predisposed  to  a  style  like  Rich- 
ter's,  is  it  too  much  to  say  that  the  careful  translation  of  the 
utterances  of  a  kindred  spirit  into  language  which  endeavored 
"to  preserve  the  quaint  grotesque  style  so  characteristic"  ^'^  of 
the  original  had  its  effect  of  confirmation,  and  even  of  addition, 
upon  the  manner  of  the  translator  ?  We  have  already  shown 
several  instances  in  which,  to  all  appearances,  Carlyle  absorbed 
ideas  from  the  congenial  spirit  of  his  German  hero  ;*^^  several 
other  such  parallels  will  be  found  in  the  second  part  of  this 
essay. *3)  And  it  is  difficult  to  resist  the  impression  that  the 
manifest  resemblance  in  manner  between,  say,  Richter's  fine 
apostrophe  to  Old  Maids,  ^'^^  and  mam^  oratorical  passages  of 
Sartor  is  due,  not  merely  to  two  independent  and  similar  en- 
dowments of  genius,  but  also  to  the  inevitable  influence  which 
one  original  spirit  exercises  upon  another.  In  particular  Car- 
lyle's  characteristic  habit  of  explaining  his  metaphors^^)  is  in 
line  with  Richter's  corresponding  attempt (^>  not  to  leave  the 
matter-of-fact  reader  in  ignorance  of  his  real  meaning. 

To  Novalis  Carlyle  was  indebted  more  for  specific  thoughts 
than  for  style. '"^  Such  minor  matters  as  the  name  "Blumine"^^^ 
and  expressions. like  "cr}-  a  more  courageous  class" "^^9)  are  to 
be  observ^ed. 

To  Goethe  Carlyle's  debt  is  fundamental,  is  not  properly 
a  matter  of  style  at  all. 

There  is  room  for  a  persisting  difference  of  opinion  as  to  how 
far  the  study  of  the  German  language  really  influenced  Carlyle's 
st5de,  and  how  far  he  was,  for  the  special  purposes  of  Sartor, 
"at  pains  to  giv^e  a  German  coloring"  to  it.*'°)  Certainly,  there 
was  no  extraneous  inducement  to  be  Germanic  in  the  earlier 
essays.  Perhaps  Carlyle's  favorite  diminutive  ending  "-kin" 
w^as  suggested  to  him  by  the  German  "-chen,"  although 
his  share  in  the  Scotch  genius  for  such  endings  helps  to  ac- 
count for  such  phrases  as  "vehement  shrew-mouse  squeak- 
lets."*^"^     The  absence  of  a  conjunction,  too,  is   sometimes  sug- 

(i)  J  R  28.  (2)  See  above  pp.  6,  7,  9,  14.  (3)  See  citations  on  S  R  i>  19  ;  47.  3-5  ;  90,  i; 
102,  28,  155.  10:  161.  17.  etc.  (4)  J  A  236.  (5)  As  S  R  170,  9;  212.  9-16;  244.  31  ff.  (6^  J  A 
234,26,28.(7)  M's  notes  on  S  R  13S,  3;  177,  14;  200,  3;  207.  15;  217,  15.  See  also  pass- 
ages below,  cited  on  S  R  61,  20;  169.  14;  176,  16  and  17:  177,  14.  (8)Ni32.  Novalis  Schrif  ten, 
Berlin,  1826,  vol.  I.  p.  5:  "die  blaue  Blunie."  (9)  N  118,  cf  S  R  232,  25.  Novalis  Schriften, 
vol.  II,  p.  55:  "Wohl,  sagen  Muthigere.''     (10}  M  xliv.     (11)30115,4. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.       17 

gestive  of  German  influence,  as  in  the  following  conditional 
sentence:  "Was  the  old  wolf  hunted  down,  the  cub  had  escap- 
ed. ^'^  And  the  capitalization  of  nouns  is  b}-  no  means  confined 
to  Sartor.  Cautioush^  used  in  the  essay  on  Voltaire,  there  are 
eleven  cases  of  capitalized  nouns  in  as  many  lines  near  the  close 
of  the  account  of  Cagliostro,  and  thus  evidence  that  Carlyle  ap- 
preciated the  convenience  of  a  foreign  method  which  enabled 
him  to  present  to  the  eye  the  emphasis  that  he  felt. 

The  matter  of  Carlyle's  growth  in  freedom  and  vigor  of 
expression  deserves  a  moment  to  itself.  Perhaps  the  readiest 
way  to  enforce  the  difference  between  his  earlier  and  his  later 
manner  is  to  subjoin  a  short  example  of  each.  The  articles 
written  for  Brewster  are  striking  in  their  carefully-turned  and 
almost  colorless  style.  But  here  are  a  baker's  dozen  of  lines 
from  the  Life  of  Sc/iiller,  not  less  vital  than  the  average  :  "It 
is  a  cruel  fate  for  the  poet  to  have  the  sunn}'  land  of  his  imagi- 
nation, often  the  sole  territory  he  is  lord  of,  disfigured  and 
darkened  by  the  shadows  of  pain  ;  for  one  whose  highest  hap- 
piness is  the  exertion  of  his  mental  faculties,  to  "have  them 
chained  and  paralyzed  in  the  imprisonment  of  a  distempered 
frame.  With  external  activity,  with  palpable  pursuits,  above 
all,  with  a  suitable  placidity  of  nature,  much  even  in  certain 
states  of  sickness  may  be  performed  and  enjoyed.  But  for  him, 
whose  heart  is  already  over  keen,  whose  world  is  of  the  mind, 
ideal,  eternal ;  when  the  mildew  of  lingering  disease  has  struck 
his  world,  and  begun  to  blacken  and  consume  its  beauty,  noth- 
ing seems  to  remain  but  despondency  and  bitterness  and  deso- 
late sorrow,  felt  and  anticipated,  to  the  end."'-' 

And  here  is  a  passage  of  about  the  same  length,  from 
Count  Cagliostro,  the  passage  above  referred  to  as  an  example 
of  later  noun-capitalization  : 

"But  the  moral  lesson?  Where  is  the  moral  lesson? 
Foolish  reader,  in  every  Reality,  nay  in  every  genuine  Shadow 
of  a  Reality  (what  we  call  Poem),  there  lie  a  hundred  such,  or 
a  million  such,  according  as  thou  hast  the  eye  to  read  them  ! 
Of  which  hundred  or  million  lying  here  (in  the  present  Reality), 

(i)  E  G  L  425.     See  also  M  xlv,  Note.     C2)  L  S    131  and  132. 


18  TiiK  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

coukist  not  thou,  for  example,  be  advised  to  take  this  one,  to 
thee  worth  all  the  rest :  Behold,  I  too  have  attained  that  im- 
measurable, mysterious  glory  of  being  alive ;  to  me  also  a 
Capability  has  been  entrusted  ;  shall  I  strive  to  work  it  out 
(manlike)  into  Faithfulness,  and  Doing;  or  (quacklike)  into 
Eatableness,  and  Similitude  of  Doing?  or  why  not  rather  (gig- 
ma'n-like,  and  following  the  'respectable,'  countless  multitude) 
— into  both  ?  The  decision  is  of  quite  injiiiitf  moment  ;  see  thou 
make  it  aright. "^'^ 

It  remains,  in  this  rapid  treatment  of  Carlyle's  mode  of 
expression,  to  point  out  several  special  characteristics  of  style 
that  are  found  in  Sartor,  and  that  also  previously  reveal 
themselves  in  the  earlier  essays.  The  metaphorical  tendenc}' 
of  Carl3'le  as  Professor  Teufelsdrockh,  and  of  Carljde  as  writer 
to  the  reviews  of  his  da}-,  is  sufficiently  obvious,  while  a  collation 
of  all  his  metaphors,  in  both  capacities,  would  involve  patience 
of  the  first  magnitude.  There  are,  however,  several  particular 
sources  of  metaphor,  of  which  he  is  fond,  that  can  be  mentioned 
here.  One  of  these  results  in  what  may  be  called  the  bridge- 
figure.  The  original  of  this  figure  is,  as  Carlyle's  language 
plainly  shows,  Milton's  bridge,  built  by  Sin  and  Death  from 
hell  to  earth.  (-)  But  Carlyle  delights  in  transforming  the 
ominous  character  of  the  bridge  into  beneficence,  as  he  has 
done  before  in  wresting  the  language  of  Satan  to  spiritual 
use. (3)  Carlyle's  favorite  use  of  the  bridge-figure  is  in  its  ap- 
plication to  German  literature,  and  the  means  of  conveying  it 
to  English  readers. <4^  Another  favorite  source  of  metaphor  is 
the  firmament  and  its  phenomena,  perhaps  the  result,  in  part,  of 
Carlyle's  astronomical  studies.  Not  infrequently  the  more  por- 
tentous aspects  of  the  sky  are  indicated  ;  and  again,  the  planet 
earth  will  be  seen,  a  ball  whirling  through  space. "^-^^  Sometimes 
the  figure  will  be  consistently  extended  for  eight  or  ten  lines. <^^ 
A  third  favorite  figure  ma}^  be  termed  the  tree-figure.  Some- 
times the  oak  or  the   banian  is   used  in  simile  or  in  metaphor, 

(l)  C  C  77  and  78.  (2)  S  R  1S5,  26,  and  M's  note.  See  al.so  S  R  244,  i-io.  (3)  S  R  149, 
17  and  note.  (4)  S  R  ^awm;  J  R  30;  S  270.  See  al.so  L  S  69.  (5)  1^8225,22;  B  293.  2  £f; 
V  23.  20  ff;  N  L  339.  12;   E  G  L  44S,  13;  D   G  205.    14.     See   also  V  34,   24,  Bi  98,   26.     (6)    As 

S  R  S8,  3-13;  132,  6-14. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  -   10 

sometimes  the  growth  of  a  tree  furnishes  the  desired  symbol, 
sometimes  some  part,  as  roots  or  branches,  bears  the  emphasis. 
It  is  rather  surprising,  on  the  whole,  how  frequently  this  source 
of  comparison  is  used.*'^ 

The  vigor  of  Carlyle's  expression  is  as  obvious  as  its  figur- 
ativeness.  All  we  wish  to  remark  here  is  that  this  vigor,  in 
the  earlier  essays,  was  accustomed  to  break  through  the  fetters 
of  a  literal  translation.  Thus,  in  a  translation  from  the  French 
of  Voltaire's  biographer  I^ongchamp,  we  are  told  that,  "He 
clapt  on  a  large  peruke,"  where  the  original  has  merely,  "  il  se 
mit  sur  la  tete  une  ample  perruque."^^^  Again  we  find  the 
active  iniquit}'  implied  in  "rakehell"  used  to  translate,  on  one 
occasion,  the  German  article-pronoun,  ^3)  and  on  another,  the 
passive  sufferer  set  forth  b}^  the  familiar  "  rojie.'"^'^'^ 

Reference  has  alread)-  been  made  to  the  dualistic  nature 
of  Carlyle's  philosophy.  It  would  appear  that  he  made  almost 
no  statement  without  considering  and  providing  for  its  oppos- 
ite. ^^^  Just  as  the  nature  of  man  is  compounded  of  two  warring 
forces,  which  3'et  are  in  some  sense  blended  in  a  single  being, 
so  an  assertion  made,  a  qualit}'  ascribed  to  an  object,  suggests 
the  counter-assertion  that  qualifies,  the  complementary  quality 
without  which  description  is  not  complete.  The  Professor  pro- 
poses a  toast  to  the  poor,  not  onl}-  in  the  name  of  God,  but  of 
his  Satanic  Majest}'.*^^  The  praise  of  Teufelsdrockh's  philoso- 
phic patience  must  be  accompanied  b}'  note  of  his  prolixity 
and  ineptitude. ^"^  Indeed,  this  habit  of  mind  finds  reflection 
even  in  doublets  of  phrase,  which  are  in  part  different,  in  part 
identical.  A  collection  of  these  phrases  is  of  some  interest, 
since,  as  the  writer  believes,  the  making  of  such  "jingling  .  . 
pairs" ('^'  grows  out  of  a  constitutional  view  of  life.  Let  us  first 
note  in  Sartor  a  number  of   these    contiguous   pairs   of   words, 

(I )  G  2S2,  iS  ff;  L  H  3S9,  30  ff;  N  L  323,  21;  cf.  S  R  34,  24:  3S1,  34;  T  S  32,  25;  Ch  41,  29  ft; 
70,  6;  Bo  169,  27;  D  375.  4;  C  C  21,  12  ff;  37,  34  ff;7S,  16  ff;  S  R  156,  29;  22S,  32.  (2)  V  2S.  cf. 
SR4i,2D.  For  the  original,  see  Longchamp's  Memoires,\l,  213.  (3)  I,  S  215,  2.  See 
WilhelmTen.  Act  IV,  sc.  3  (p.  119,  IVerke,  vol.  9,  Stuttgart,  1865):  "  Dem  Volk  kann 
weder  Wasser  bei  noch  Feuer."  Translated  by  Carlyle;  "  But,  for  such  rakehells, 
neither  fire  nor  flood  will  kill  them."  (4)  V  50,  7.  (5)  S  R  163,  15  ff ;  161,  22  ;  167,  25  ;  171, 
6 ;  176.  12  &  13  ;  17S  26  ff ;  iSi,  2  ;  i>;5,  i  ;  1S9,  12  ;  159.  1-3.  6  &  7  :  201,  23,  33  ;  202.  3  ;  210,  2  ; 
215,  I  ;  222,  20  ff;  223.  S;  224.  1-3;  226,  27.  (6)  S  R  12,  14.  (7)  S  R  24.  15  ff.  See  also  62^ 
6  ff ;  92,  Sff.     (S)  M  Iviii. 


20  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

which  show  obvious  opposition  in  meaning.  Such  are  exten- 
uate, exaggerate ;  ethereal,  diabolic  ;  staggers,  swaggers  ; 
stars,  street-sweepings ;  soup,  solid ;  descendentalism,  tran- 
scendentalism ;  invisibility,  visibilit}-  ;  aproned,  disaproned  ; 
plenty,  parsimony  ;  admitting,  emitting  ;  joy-storm,  woe-storm; 
suddenly,  slowly;  northward,  southward;  city-builder,  city- 
burner;  help,  hinder;'"  animalism,  spiritualism;  shadow- 
hunter,  shadow-hunted;  nothing,  nobody,  something,  some- 
body; vanquished  (p.  p.),  vanquish;  successively,  simultaneous- 
ly ;  worry,  be* worried  ;  spend,  spent  ;  fact,  fiction  :  fresh,  fad- 
ed ;  extrinsic,  intrinsic  :  needfully,  needles.sly;  inferior,  super- 
ior ;  laughable,  lamentable  ;  dandiacal,  drudgical.*^^  Another 
sub-class  of  these  "jingling  pairs"  includes  words  that  express 
related  ideas,  yet  ideas  that  are  not  mutualh-  exclusive,  but  are 
the  result  of  looking  at  an  object  from  two  somewhat  differing 
points  of  view.  Such  are  lucid,  lucent  ;  whereon,  whereby  ; 
invisible,  illegible  ;  habitable,  habilable ;  ever-living,  ever- 
working  ;  physical,  psychical ;  light,  love  ;  then,  thenceforth  ; 
duty,  destiny  ;  lasted,  lasts  ;  discoverable,  supposable  ;  omni- 
potent, omnipatient ;  strong-headed,  wrong-headed;  unendeav- 
oring,  unattaining;  f^owerage,  foliage;  eulog}',  elegj- ;  as- 
igned,  assignable  ;  diplomatic,  biographic  ;  suicidal,  homicidal; 
examples,  exemplars ;  wandering,  wayward ;  vehicle,  vesture; 
world,  worldkin ;  good-breeding,  high-breeding :  warp, 
woof.^-"^*  Finall}',  there  are  pairs  of  words  which  are  joined  to- 
gether principally'  b}'  the  jingle  at  the  beginning  of  them,  or  at 
the  end.  These  may  or  may  not  represent  a  valuable 
distinction  of  ideas,  and  are  to  be  regarded  as  illustrating  the 
tendency  under  consideration  pushed  to  the  extreme  of  a  man- 
nerism. Such  are  mask,  muffler  ;  litter,  lumber  ;  bestrapped. 
bebooted  ;  half-cracked,  half-congealed  ;  windpipe,  weasand  ; 
mumbling,  maundering  ;  fish,  flesh  ;  tureen,  trough  ;  malign- 
est,    maddest ;  clothw^ebs,  cobwebs  ;  chink-lighted,  oil-lighted  ; 

(i)  S  R  10,  i8 ;  13,  2  ;  19,  14 ;  28,  6 ;  30,  5  ;  57,  30 ;  72,  15  ;  93,  17  ;  113,  17  ;  135.  i  :  135.  3 
and  4;  139,  6;  139,  33  and  34;  157,  5  and  6;  160,8.  (2)  S  R  164,  14  and  15;  165,  19;  166, 
2  &  Ji  167,  }  and  4;  170,  15  &  16;  176,  18;  180,  27  ;  l8},  15  ;  188,  7;  202,  6;  210,  14;  227,  }0; 
249,  7i  259,  4  &  5-  (3)  S  R  8,  II  ;  JO,  19;  ji,  II  &  12;  32,  30  ;  J4,  22;  54,  15  &  16;  58,  29; 
75,  18  &  19;  89,  7;   92,  3J  ;   98,   33  ;  IC2,    }  ;  I07,  3  ;    116,  22  ;    122,    I  5  ;    I25,  9;    136,     34;    142,    12  ;     164, 

7 ;  168,  6  ;  171,  17  ;    176,  5  ;   179,  2  ;  217,  2  ;  256,  22. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  21 

myster}^  mysticism ;  shreds,  snips ;  bedizened,  beribanded  ; 
skating-matches,  shooting  matches  ;  puffery,  quackery,  breast- 
beating,  brow-beating;  perambulation,  circumambulation ; 
Truths  grown  absolute,  Trades  grown  absolute ;  talismanic, 
thaumaturgic  ;  treacherous,  traitorous ;  tatters,  tag-rags  ;  cut- 
purse,  cut-throat ;  rag-gathering,  rag-burning  ;  wild-flaming, 
wild-thundering ;  puddle,  muddle ;  delirium,  deliquium ; 
hierophant.  hierarch.'"  The  same  attitude  of  mind  seems  to  be 
indicated  in  Carlyle's  habit  of  denying  the  opposite  of  a  quality 
or  statement,  instead  of  using  the  affirmative  form.  Thus,  in- 
stead of  saying  that  a  "Tree  of  Knowledge"  stands  in  the 
midst  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  of  "ever}'  well-conditioned  strip- 
ling,"  he  prefers  the  phrasing  "nor"  is  such  a  tree  "want- 
ing. "^^^  Some  of  these  turns  of  phrases  are  apparent!}-  with- 
out special  force,  as  "not  unvisited."*-^^  And  "  not  unin- 
telligible" may  prove  to  mean  "all-illuminating. "<^-^'  This  de- 
nial of  the  opposite  may  fairly  be  called  characteristic  of  Car- 
Ijde.^')  Xhe  significant  observation  to  make  here  is  that  the 
mannerism  of  doublets,  alwaj^s  in  some  greater  or  less  degree 
opposed  in  meaning,  is  by  no  means  confined  to  Sa7ioi\  but 
appears,  less  frequently  it  is  true,  in  the  earlier  essays.  Thus 
we  find  distinction,  disgrace  ;'^)  possible,  probable  ;^~'  pudding, 
praise  ;f^)  theogony,  theology  *9);  periodical,  perennial;  hopeless, 
helpless;  vibrations,  vibratiuncles;  intricately,  inseparabl}-;*'^) 
with  (or)  without  (hope);*"^  clown,  craftsman; ('^>  (auroral) 
light,  (infernal)  lightning;  emitted,  fl'rmitted  ;(■'' indelicacy,  in- 
decenc}' ;  wayfaring,  warfaring.^'-*^  Even  in  the  tran.slations 
from  the  German,  the  same  mannerism  appears.  Thus  in  Mcis-t 
ter' s  Travels,  are  found,  for  example,  blamably,  blamelessly  ;■ 
synchronistic,  symphronistic.^'"  And  in  translating  from  Rich- 
ter  the  sceptical  age  is  described  as  "a  criticising  and  critical 
time."^"^^     It  is  in  5rtr/(9r,  however,    that   Carlyle,   indulges    in 

(i)  S  R  lo,  note  ;  13,  6  ;  17,  14  ;  22  3  ;  25,  «7  ;  26,  n  ;  30,  5  ;  30,  7  ;  55,  2Z  and  2j  ;  59,  21  ; 
60,  13  ;  61,  18  ;  69,  8  ;  87,  I  &  2  ;  87,  22  &  23  ;  100,  26  ;  135,  12  ;  135,  17  ;  144,  21  &.  22  ; 
157,  142  ;  162,  2  ;  191,  5  &  6  ;  210,  26;  230,  12  ;  242,  n  ;  246,  28  &  29  ;  251,  34  & 
252,  I ;  264,  1}  &  14.  (2)  S  R  122,  14  ff.  (3)  S  R  I2J,  II.  (4)  S  R  231,  24  ff.  (5)  S  R  125,  21 ;  157, 
19  &  20  ;  162,  26;  170,  18  ;  194,  I ;  198,  2  ;  221,  6.  (6)  L  S  136,  12.  (7)  L  S  201,  23.  (8)  B  531,  8. 
(9)  V  4S>  ?o-  (10)  S  T  145,  28  :  149,  i;  152,  33,  161,  27.  (n)  Ch  67,  8.  (12)  Bo  170,  note,  (ij)  G 
W  238,  33;  251,27.  (14)  D  369,  7; '378,  19.  (i;)  Book  I,  chapters  X  and  .XI:  Boston,  i8;i,  vol.  II, 
pp.  307,  26;  312,  29.     C16)  N  142,  20. 


22  The  Growth  ok  Sartor  Resartus. 

his  whim  without  stint,  giving  full  rein  to  his  fondness  for  pairs 
of  words  that  sometimes  suggest  a  prose- writter  struggling  for 
forbidden  rhyme."'  Occasionally,  alliteration  extends  to  three 
words;  as,  bewitched,  befooled,  bedeviled;  (^^  and  this  extreme 
also  is  paralled  in  the  earlier  essa3-s,  as  in  the  case  of  "poor, 
moaning,  monotonous,  Macpherson."*'' 

Finally,  the  style  of  Sartor  is  marked  by  the  use  of  certain 
words,  peculiar  either  in  themselves  or  in  the  frequency  with 
which  they  appear.  To  the  former  class  belong  '  'palingenesia, ' ' 
"whinstone,"  "vocables"  as  equivalent  to  "words,"  and  "gone" 
prefixed  to  an  adjective,  as  "gone  silent,"  "gone  dead."^-*)  To 
the  latter  class  belong  "infinite,"  "stormful,"  "inane,"  and 
"perennial."''"'  A  characteristic  use  of  "infinite"  is  in  its 
translation,  or  rather  emphasis,  of  the  German  "sehr  viel."^'^' 
"Inane"  is  generally  used  as  a  noun.  "Perennial"  is  a  persis- 
tent favorite.  To  these  much-employed  words  the  Biblical 
"Holy  of  Holies"  may  be  added.''' 

But  it  is  high  time  to  turn  from  topical  treatment  of  the 
relation  between  the  earlier  essays  and  Sartor,  to  do  what  is 
perhaps  more  mechanical,  but  certainty  no  less  abundant  in 
result.  An  examination  of  the  clothes-philosoph}-,  chapter  by 
chapter,  will  prove,  although  no  pretence  is  made  to  quite  ex- 
haustive tracing  of  parallels,  that  Carlye  had  grown  into  many 
habitual  thoughts,  and  turns  of  phrase,  w'hich  he  made  little 
or  no  attempt  to  disguise  in  form  when  he  posed  as  the  now 
celebrated  Professor  of  Things-in-General.  He  relied  securely 
upon  his  comparative  obscurity  as  a   man  ot  letters ;    j^et  it  is 

(i)  other  examples  of  this  pairing  of  words  in  S  K  are  S  R  i,  21;  9,  11;  14.  4;  15,  14; 
17,  2  &  3;  20,  12;  21,  5:  21,  33;  23.  6;  60.  21  &  22:  65.  3:  6S.  30;  76.  24;  77.  33;  79.  9  &  10;  84,  2; 
86,  34;  87,  8;  92,  31;  97,  21  ff,  34;  100,  15;  100.  26;  loi,  4  &  5;  102,  29;  loS,  4,  34:  iii,  12.  14  &  15; 
113,  33  &  33;  114.  i4&  25;  121,  9;  122.  32;  123,  17;  127,  4  &  5;  130,15;  137,17;  139-27;  141.32; 
144,  11;  144,  34;  146,  7,  20;  14S,  24;  150,34;  151,7;  155,  14  &  15;  156,  14  &  15;  157,  8  &  9;  157, 
15;  157,  32;  158,  3,  12.  13;  160,  19;  161,  S,  19  &  20;  162,  14;  162,  31;  163,  20  &  21;  163,  33  &  34, 
166,27:  168,4;  1 68.  26;  168,27;  169.7,16,22,29;  170,  I  &  2,  20;  J71.  13;  172,  12  &  13,  30  &  31; 
174,  4  &  5;  174,  21  &  ^^■,  i75,  3;  176,  12  &  ly,  177,  19  &  zo;  179,  ii;  iSc,  212;  81,  22;  182,  7,  9, 
19;  183,  18,  36  &  28;  1 84,  4,  19  &  20,  26  &  17;  185,33;  186,8,17;  188,1,11;  189,2,22,  33;  191, 
4,  12;  192,  iS;  194,  22  &  23;  195,  ig;  196,  2,  16;  198,  4  &  5,  II,  20;  199,  8;  20C,  17,  22  &  23;  2CI, 
2  &  3;  232,  20,  24  &  25;  203,  30;  204,  2;  205,  9;  206,  21;  208,  7;  211,  2;  112,  4  &  6,  14;  21 3,  I  &  2, 
17,3c;  lis,  29  &  30;  217,14;  218,2,16;  220,6;  114,25;  216,31;  127,};  228,7;  229,13  &  24; 
230,  9,  20;  234,  ig;  235,  21  &  22,  31;  238,  6,  15,  33  &  34;  14:,  2  &  3;  144,  10  &  21;  245,  23, ,28,  17;  146, 
247,  10;  14S,  ig,  34;  249,  17,  30,  32;  251,  5I;  252,  6,  iZy  255,  l;  154,  Jl;  156,  5  &  6;  160,  3,  ig,  24; 
263,  20;     165,  8;    166,  IC  &  II;     269,  23;  270,  6  &  7;     271,  6.  (1)  S  R  ICO,  23    if.      Also  20,  33;     19c, 

14  &  15.  (3)  T  S  32,  17.  14)  S  R  231,  20;  244,  17;  Bo  177,  28;  S  R  264,  20;  T  S  18,  II.  S  R  95, 
15;  C  R  276,  14.  S  R  229,  16;  227,35;  Ch  81,  13;  D  G  195,  23.  (5)  S  R  194,  29:  253,  30; 
267,  27;  S  T  156,  34;  Bo  166,  32;  167,3;  D  375,  7  (infinitude).  See  S  R  242,  16  &  note; 
C  R  284,  30;  D  G  203,  26:  C  C  29,  20.  S  R  200,  10;  242,  16;  E  G  L  386,  l;  T  S  3,  8.  S  R  175,  15; 
191,  15.  Ch  75,  27;  G  VV  267,  33;  Bi  99,  21;  124,26;  127,  13;  iJTg,  6;  243,  34;  144,  2;  182,  26,  184, 
5;  C  R  269,  19;  D  360,  23;  374,  23;  L  S,  58,  16;  120,  13.  (6)  See  M's  note  to  S  R  194, 
2S;  (7)  S  R,  70,  i;    16S,   22;  231,  16;   M's  note  to  146,  22;  E  G  L,  389,  19;  Ch.  53,  29:  S3,  17. 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.       23 

difficult  to  understand  how,  even  at  that  earlj-  period  of  his 
career,  some  of  his  previous  writing  had  not  exposed  him  at 
once,  on  the  appearance  of  Saj'tor,  as  himself  the  veritable  Teu- 
felsdrockh,  instead  of  leaving  the  secret  of  his  mystification 
only  graduall}^  to  struggle  into  light. 

The  obvious  method  of  procedure  is  to  take  the  chapters, 
even  the  lines,  of  Sartor,  in  order,  and  to  cite  parallels  in  the 
earlier  essa5'S.  In  the  following  arrangement,  to  save  space, 
comment  is  omitted.  A  separate  paragraph  is  devoted  to 
each  chapter,  and  the  lines  of  each  chapter  are  taken  in  order. 
Some  of  the  more  important  parallels  are  quoted,  the  reference 
to  each  being  given  immediately  after  it.  Other  similar  pas- 
sages in  the  earlier  essays  are  indicated  by  citation  merely, 
after  the  reference  belonging  to  the  quotation.  Occasion- 
all)-  passages  have  been  cited  which  resemble  the  later  work 
in  spirit  rather  than  in  verbal  expression.  Quotation  marks 
have  been  omitted,  except  when  Carlyle  himself  used 
them. 


BOOK  I. 


Chapter  I,  p.  i,  11.  5-8. — He  who,  in  some  singular  time 
of  the  World's  History,  were  reduced  to  wander  about,  in 
stooping  posture,  with  painfully  constructed  sulphur-match  and 
farthing  rushlight  ...  or  smoky  tarlink  .  .  .  searching  for  the 
Sun.  .  .  (D  366,  II  ff.  See  also  D  320,  16;  V  2,  3;  S  T  163, 
25;  D  366,2.)  I,  19,  and  notes. — "  A  lively  people,  for  whom 
pleasure  or  pain,  as  daylight  or  cloudy  weather,  often  hide  the 
upper  starry  heaven,  can  at  least  use  star-catalogues,  and  some 
planisphere  thereof.  "(Quoted  from  Richter,  J  R  29.)  2,  7.^ 
The  Social  Contract.  (ly  S  206,  31.)  2,  8. — As  men  cannot 
do  without  a  divinity,  a  sort  of  terrestrial  upholstery  one  had 
been  got  together,  and  named  Taste,  with  medallic  virtuosi 
and  picture  cognoscenti,  and  enlightened  letter  and  belles-let- 
ters men  enough  for  priests.  (G  W,  248,  14.  V  72,  16.) 
2,9. — 'Doctrine  of  Rent.'     (B  318,  14.)     2,  14  and   note. —  Dr. 


24  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus- 

Cabanis.  (E  G  L  3S9,  10.  LS35N.)  2,24. — Wrappage. 
(J  13,  21.  J  A  200,  23.)  3,  3-4,  and  note. — It  [Histon-]  is 
a  looking  both  before  and  after.  (H  244,  8.  S  300,  15;  301, 
25.)  3,  II. — 'Catholic  Disabilities.'  (V  30,  3.  ST,  145,  7.) 
3,  14,  see  16,  33;  26S,  7. — Watch-tower  (C  C  15,  2;  28,  4:  cf. 
on  16,  2,2,,  below.)  5,  20-22. — Die  Klcidcr:  ihr  Werdeii  und 
IVirken.  Von  D.  Teufelsdreck.  Weissnichtwo.  Still- 
schweign'sche  Buchhandlung,  1830  (G  W  212  X.) 

Chapter  II.  7,  4,  cf.  267,  17.  —  A  great  love  of  making 
Proselytes  (V  71,  26.)  7,  9. — Business  and  bosoms.  (N  ly  357, 
7.)  8,  29.  —  Like  mere  Minerva  novels,  and  songs  by  a  Per- 
son of  Quality  !  (S  263,  20.  J  10,  15.  B  302,  30.  E  G  L  414, 
30.  G  W  24s,  19.  Bo  172,  I.  C  R  287,  31  ;  289,  iS,  Bi  100, 
17.)  9,  32,  and  note.  —  Quite  spotless,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
Johnson's  love  of  Truth.  .  .  'Clear  your  mind  of  Cant;'  clear 
it,  throw  Cant  utterly  away  :  such  was  his  emphatic,  repeated 
precept.  (Bo  183,  26.  G  238,  12.  L  S  233,  i.  B  298,  19. 
Bo  127,  21  ;  160,  22  ;  178,  28  ;  184,  8.  C  R  280,  11  ;  300,  28.) 
II,  I.  cf.  100,  26.  Puffery.  (Bo  156,  2>2>'^  1S4,  28.  C  R  296, 
13.     D  332,  5.) 

Chapter  III.  13,  13.  —  Sansculottes.  (G  W  211,  9.)  14, 
7.  The  "Wandering,"  or  as  Schubart's  countrj-men  denominate 
him,  the  "Eternal  Jew."  (E  S  254.  3.  H  A  ^i^^^  i4-  C  C 
61,  II.)  14,  33  and  note. — There  is  a  series  of  Selections, 
Editions,  Translations,  Critical  Disquisitions,  some  of  them  in 
the  shape  of  Academic  Program.  (E  G  L  407,  3.)  15,  14.  — 
It  is  not  by  Derision  and  Denial,  but  far  deeper,  more  earnest, 
diviner  means  that  aught  truh'  has  been  effected  for  mankind. 
(V44,  20;  19,7.  G  H  174,  20.  G  239,  33.)  15,  20. —The 
following  singular  Fragment  on  History  forms  part,  as  may  be 
recognized,  of  the  Inaugural  Discourse  delivered  by  our  assid- 
uous 'D.  T.'  at  the  opening  of  the  Society  for  the  Diffusion  of 
Common  Honesty.  The  discourse,  if  one  maj'  credit  the  Morn- 
ing Papers,  'touched  in  the  most  wonderful  manner,  didacti- 
cally, poetically,  almost  propheticall)^  on  all  things  in  this 
world  and  the  next,  in  a  strain  of  sustained  or  rather  of  sup- 
pressed passionate  eloquence  rarely  witnessed  in  Parliament  or 
out  of  it  :   the  chief  bursts  were  received  with  profound  silence,' 


The  Growth  of  SarTor  REvSaktus.  25 

—  interrupted,  we  fear,  by  snuff-takiug.  (H  A  382,  i,  ff.)  16, 
33.  —  See  3,  14;  268,  7. — Watch-towers  (Bi  112,  16.)  17,28. 
See  242.  —  Rough  Samuel  and  sleek  wheedling  James  were, 
and  are  not.  Their  life  and  whole  personal  Environment  has 
melted  into  air.  (Bo  132,  34  ff.  D  357,  29.)  18,  3.  —  His- 
tory ...  is  the  onl}'  articidate  communication  (when  the  in- 
articulate and  mute,  intelligible  or  not,  lie  round  us  and  in  us, 
so  strangely  through  every  fibre  of  our  being,  every  step 
of  our  activity)  which  the  Past  can  have  with  the  Present.  (H 
A  382,  19.)  20,  16. — Perhaps  scarcel}- the  besom  of  a  maid 
had  got  admittance.  (G  W  235,  18.)  21,  31. —  The  burin 
of  Retxsch  is  not  more  expressive  or  exact.  (B  305,  18.)  22, 
32.     Talapoin.      (D  367,  13.) 

Chapter  IV.  24,31.  —  Coronation  Pontiff.  (Bo  153,31.) 
29,  17. — Wit  of  this  sort  .  .  .  has  not  even  the  force  to  laugh 
outright,  but  can  only  sniff  and  titter.  (V  61,  14.  B  314,  19. 
D  347,  20;   354,  23.) 

Chapter  V.  32,  22  and  note. — Vain  were  it  to  inquire 
where  Nibelungen-land  specially  is :  its  very  name  is  Ah'bcl- 
land,  or  Nifl-land,  the  land  of  Darkness,  of  Invisibility.  (N  ly 
342,  13.)  34,  iS  —  21,  cf  236,  17  ff — If  all  things,  to  speak  in 
the  German  dialect,  are  discussed  by  us,  and  exist  for  us,  in  an 
element  of  Time,  and  therefore  of  Mortality  and  Mutability  ; 
yet  Time  itself  reposes  on  Eternity  .  .  .  Thus  in  all  Poetry, 
Worship,  Art,  Society,  as  one  form  passes  into  another,  nothing 
is  lost.  (Ch  87,  I.  Bo  132,  19.  D  334,  8.)  34,  21-25.  —  Thus 
though  Tradition  may  have  but  one  root,  it  grows  like  a  Ban- 
ian, into  a  whole  over-arching  labyrinth  of  trees.  (N  L  323, 
20.)  34,  30-34,  see  164,  10. — Gunpowder  (of  the  thirteenth 
century),  though  Milton  gives  the  credit  of  it  to  Satan,  has 
helped  mightily  to  lessen  the  horrors  of  war :  thus  much  at 
least  must  be  admitted  in  its  favor,  that  it  secures  the  dominion 
of  civilized  over  savage  man  :  nay,  hereby,  in  personal  contests, 
not  brute  Strength,  but  Courage  and  ingenuity,  can  avail  .  .  . 
If  the  story  of  Brother  Schwartz's  mortar  giving  fire  and  driv- 
ing his  pestle  through  the  ceiling  ...  is  but  a  fable, — that 
of  our  first  Book  being  printed  there  is  much  better  ascertained. 
(E  G  Iv  430,  22-28;  431,  II.)     35,  21.  —  Such  is  the  difference 


26  The  Growth  "of  Sartor  Resartus. 

between  God-creation  and  Tailor-creation.  Great  is  the  Tailor, 
but  not  the  greatest.  (G  W  213,  35.  Bo  144,  26.)  35,  22  ff. 
of  180,  5.  —  Those  Universities,  and  other  Establishments  and 
Improvements,  were  so  many  tools  which  the  Spirit  of  the  time 
had  devised.  (E  G  ly  432,  11. )  Ibid.  —  Rudiments  of  an  Epic, 
we  say  ;  and  of  the  true  Epic  of  our  Time,  —  were  the  genius 
but  arrived  that  could  sing  it!  Not  'Arms  and  the  Man;' 
'Tools  and  the  Man,"  that  were  now  our  Epic.  What  in- 
deed are  Tools,  from  the  hammer  and  plummet  of  Enoch  Ray 
to  this  Pen  we  now  write  with,  but  Arms,  wherewith  to  do  battle 
again.st  Unreason.     (C  R  297,   13.) 

Chapter  VI.  37,  13.— Wiredrawn.  (B,  29715.)  38,27-39, 
^^ — .  _  _  The  yl//«<!'rz^a /'r.f^^^.v  of  all  nations,  and  this  their  huge 
transit-trade  in  rags,  all  lifted  from  the  dunghill,  printed  on 
and  returned  thither,  to  the  comfort  of  parties  interested  .  .  . 
(E  G  L  414,  30;  431.  28.  H  A  387,  6.)  39,  21.  — 'Satan's 
Invisible  World  displayed.'      (G  H  173,  15.) 

Chapter  VII.  43,  20-29.  —  What  good  is  it  to  me  though 
innumerable  Smolletts  and  Belshams  keep  dinning  in  my  ears 
.  .  .  That  he  who  sat  in  chancery,  and  rayed  out  speculation 
from  the  Woolsack,  was  now  a  man  that  squinted,  now  a  man 
that  did  not  squint  ?  To  the  hungry  and  thirsty  mind  all  this 
avails  next  to  nothing.      (Bo  134,  7.) 

Chapter  VIII.  45,  16. — No  organ  of  truth  but  logic.  (D 
365,  19;  366,  3.  Bo  128,  32.)  46,  21  ff. — The  Universe,  of  Man 
and  Nature,  is  still  quite  shut  up  from  them;  the  'open  secret' 
is  still  utterly  a  secret.  .  .  Nothing  but  a  pitiful  Image  of  their 
own  pitiful  Self.  .  .  so  that  the  starry  All,  with  whatsoever  it 
embraces,  does  but  appear  as  some  expanded  magic-lantern 
show  of  that  same  Image, — and  naturally  looks  pitiful  enough. 
(Bi  III,  7.  D  366,  8-19.)  46,  29, — Inspired  Volume  of  Na- 
ture. (Bi  112,  4.)  46,  31. — Dream-grotto.  (E  G  L  440,  33.) 
47-3-5- — "I  travelled  through  the  worlds,  I  mounted  into  the 
suns,  and  flew  with  the  galaxies  through  the  wastes  of  heaven; 
but  there  is  no  God.  I  descended  as  far  as  being  casts  its 
shadow,  and  looked  into  the  abyss,  and  cried:  Father,  where 
art  thou?  but  I  heard  only  the  eternal  storm,  which  no  one 
guides;  and  the  gleaming   rainbow  from  the  west,    without    a 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  RKvSArtus.  27 

Sun  that  made  it,  stood  over  the  abyss,  and  trickled  down." 
(J  R  33-  Quoted  also  J  A  240,  with  "went"  substituted  for 
"travelled,"  "down"  added  after  "  looked,"  "everlasting" 
substituted  for  "  eternal,"  and  the  last  sentence  rendered,  "the 
gleaming  Rainbow  of  Creation  hung  without  a  Sun  that  made 
it,  over  the  Abyss,  and  trickled  down."  From  the  first  chapter 
oi  Richter's  S/cbe/iA'ds.  Quoted  substantially  again,  D  361,  28 
ff.  cf.  also  from  Carlyle's  translation  of  Schiller's  Don  Carlos, 
Act  III-,  Scene  x:  "  Him,  themaker  we  behold  not;  calm  He  veils 
himself  in  everlasting  laws. "  Iv  S  94,  26.)  47,  5-13. — In  that 
stertorous  last  fever-sleep  of  our  European  world,  must  not 
Phantasms  enough  (born  of  the  Pit,  as  all  such  arc)  flit  past, 
in  ghastly  masquerading  and  chattering  ?  A  low,  scarce-aud- 
ible moan  (in  Parliamentary  Petitions,  Meal-mobs,  Popish  Riots, 
Treatises  on  Atheism)  struggles  from  the  moribund  sleeper; 
frees  him  not  from  his  hellish  guests  and  saturnalia:  Phantasms 
these  'of  a  dying  brain.'  (C  C  25,  29  ff.)  47,  18-26. —  Nature, 
like  the  sphinx,  her  emblem.  ,  .  Now  too  her  riddle  had  been 
propounded;  and  thousands  of  subtle,  disputatious  school-men 
were  striving  earnestly  to  read  it,  that  they  might  live,  morally 
live,  that  the  monster  might  not  devour  them.  These,  like 
strong  swimmers,  in  boundless,  bottomless  vortices  of  logic, 
swam  manfully,  but  could  not  get  to  land.  (E  G  L  390,  13. 
D  362,  16  ff. )  48,  22. — Nature  is  no  longer  dead,  hostile 
Matter  but  the  veil  and  mysterious  Garment  of  the  Unseen. 
(N  112,  21.)  48,  23  ff. — "Thus  at  the  roaring  Loom  of  Time  I 
ply,  And  weave  for  God  the  Garment  thou  seest  him  by."  (J  R 
■^2i  N,  C's  translation  of  Richter's  quotation  for  Faust.  D  307,29.) 
50,  26. — "Straddling  biped  that  wears  breeches."      (CC  3,  14.) 

Chapter  IX.  54,  3. — Levees,  and  couchees.  (V  48,  20.) 
54)  33- — Pickle-herring  farce.  (G  W  208,  10.  C  C  67,  7.) 
55,  4. — "  An  honest  man  you  may  form  of  windle-straws  ;  but 
to  make  a  rascal  you  must  have  grist."  (S  281  N,  quoted 
from  Schiller's  Robbers,  a  passage  offensive  to  the  grand  Duke 
of  Wurtemberg.  Re-quoted,  L  S  36  N.  See  also  L  S  250,  35; 
E  G  L  434,  30. 

Chapter  X.  57,9. — Serbonian  bog.  (L  869,23.)  58,1-10. 
cf.  217,  17.   Every  man,  within  that  inconsiderable  figure  of  his, 


28  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

contains  a  whole  Spirit-kingdom  and  Reflex  of  the.  All  ;  and, 
though  to  the  eye  but  some  six  standard  feet  in  size,  reaches 
downwards  and  upwards,  unsurveyable,  fading  into  the  regions 
of  Immensity  and  of  Eternity.  (D  307,  24  ff.)  Ibid. — "Nay, 
is  not  Man's  Spirit  (with  all  its  infinite  celestial-spaces)  walled 
in  within  a  six-feet  Body,  with  integuments,  and  Malpighian 
mucuses,  and  capillary  tubes;  and  has  only  five  straight  world- 
windows,  of  Senses,  to  open  for  the  boundless,  round-eyed,  round- 
sunned  All; — and  yet  it  discerns  and  reproduces  an  All  !  " 
(J  A  185,  12  ff.)  .  58,  18-19. — Chrysostom,  or  Mouth-of-Gold. 
(C  C  53,  13.  D  372,  18.)  58,  20. — Man  is  ever  ...  a  Revela- 
tion of  God  to  man.  (Bo  183,  23.  C  C  i,  14.)  59,  10. — '  Dark 
with  excess  of  light  '  {sic^.  (V  21,  9.)  59,  16. — An  eye  for 
what  is  above  him,  not  for  what  is  about  him  or  below  him. 
(S  302,  20.)  59,  30.— ^Alas,  what  is  the  loftiest  flight  of  genius, 
the  finest  frenzy  that  ever  for  moments  united  Heaven  with 
Earth,  to  the  perennial,  never-failing  joys  of  a  digestive-appara- 
tus thoroughly  eupeptic  ?  (S  289,  28  fl.  D  311,  32.)  60,  i  ff. 
cf.  245,  16. — For  Goethe,  as  for  Shakespeare,  the  world  lies  .  .  . 
encircled  with  Wonder.  (G  W  262,  11.)  61,  2. — Rome  was 
once  saved  by  geese  (D  340,  11.)  61,  18.  He  walks  through 
the  land  of  wonders,  unwondering.  (S  T  153,  15.  H  252,  18.) 
61,  20. — '  That  closet-logic'  (Quoted  from  Novalis,  V  79,  11. 
B  305,  8  •  307,  17  ;  318,  13.  V  23,  4  ;  30,  26.  E  G  L  390,  19- 
Ch  51,  10.  Bo  128,  32.)  61,  26. — This  world  of  ours  ...  is 
also  a  '  M^-stic  Temple  and  Hall  of  Doom.'  (CC27,  24.  ES 
67,  13.)  62,  2.— Dilettante.  (T  S  8,  19;  40,  8.  ST  170,  16. 
G  W  248,  10.) 

Chapter  XI.  63,  6. — It  is  a  rustic,  rude  existence  ;  barren 
moors,  with  the  smoke  of  Forges  rising  over  the  waste  expanse. 
(C  R  291,  6.)  63,  20,  21. — The  All  (D  307,  25.)  63,  25. — 
The  living  Force  of  a  new  man.  (C  R  275,  31.)  67,  14, — But 
we  may  excite  a  very  differerent  sort  of  interest  if  we  represent 
each  remarkable  occurrence  that  happened  to  men  as  of  import- 
ance to  man.  (E  S  126,  22,  Bi  96,  7.  G  W  209,  29.)  67, 
16. — Define  to  thyself  judicious  reader,  the  real  significance  of 
these  phenomena.  .  .  the  sum  total  of  which  .  .  .  constitutes 
that    other   grand    phenomenon    still    called     'Conversation.' 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  "29 

Do  they  not  mean  wholly:  Biography  and  Autobiography? 
(Bi  97,  24.)  67,  21  and  68,  25. — "Empire-free,  Highly-well- 
born, Particularly-much-to-be-venerated,  I^ord  Pri\y  Counsel- 
lor !  "     (Iv  S  257,  17.; 


BOOK  II. 


Chapter  I.  73,7. — Rosbach.  (¥36,11.)  73,22. — The  Span- 
ish Cid.  (N  L  379,  34.)  73,  27. — Camisado.  (L  S  128,  9).  76, 
32-77,  7. — Know,  then,  that  in  the  year  1743,  in  the  city  of  Pal- 
ermo, in  Sicily,  the  family  of  Signor  Pietro  Balsamo,  a  shop- 
keeper, were  exhilarated  by  the  birth  of  a  Bo}'.  Such  occuren- 
ces have  now  become  so  frequent  that  miraculuous  as  they  are, 
they  occasion  little  astonishment.  (CC12,  15  ff.)  78,  9. — Walter 
Shandy.  (Ch  51,  2.)  79,  3,  and  note. — Outwardly  in  his  five 
senses,  inwardly  in  his  'sixth  sense,  that  of  vanity,'  nothing- 
straitened.  (C  C  7,  31.)  Ibid. — If  we  consider  Beppo's  great 
Hunger,  now  that  new  senses  were  unfolding  in  him  .  .  •  (C  C 
18,  11.^     79,  27.  cf.  90,  16. — A  modest,  still  nature.    (S  275,  9.) 

Chapter  II.  For  the  spirit  of  the  opening  paragraph  com- 
pare Ch  47,  16  ff :  Most  of  us,  looking  back  on  young  years, 
may  remember  seasons  of  a  light,  aerial  translucency  and  elas- 
ticity, and  perfect  freedom  ;  the  bodj^  had  not  yet  become  the 
prison-house  of  the  soul,  but  was  its  vehicle  and  implement, 
like  a  creature  of- the  thought,  and  altogether  pliant  to  its  bid- 
ding. We  knew  not  that  we  had  limbs,  we  only  lifted,  hurled, 
and  leapt;  through  eye  and  ear,  and  all  avenues  of  sense,  came 
clear  unimpeded  tidings  from  without,  and  from  within  issued 
clear,  victorious  force  ;  we  stood  as  in  the  centre  of  Nature,  giv- 
ing and  receiving,  in  harmony  with  it  all;  unlike  Virgil's  Hus- 
bandman, '  too  happy  because  we  did  not  know  our  blessedness. ' 
In  those  days,  health  and  sickness  were  foreign  traditions  that 
did  not  concern  us  ;  our  whole  being  was  as  yet  One,  the  whole 
man  like  an  incorporated  Will.  83,  2. — The  epoch  when  he 
passed  out  of  long-clothes.  (C  C  13,  2.)  83,  14. — The  picture 
of  the  boy  Schiller  contemplating  the   thunder.     (L  S  14,       2 


30       The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

83,  16  ff. — That  foolish  piece  of  gilt  wood,  there  glittering  sun- 
lit, with  its  reflex  wavering  in  the  Maj^n  waters,  is  awakening 
quite  another  glitter  in  the  young  gifted  soul  :  is  not  this  foolish 
sun-lit  splendor  also,  now  when  there  is  an  eye  to  behold  it,  one 
of  Nature's  doings  ?  The  eye  of  the  3'oung  seer  is  here,  through 
the  paltriest  chink,  looking  into  the  infinite  Splendors  of  Nature, 
— where,  one  day,  himself  is  to  enterand  dwell.    (G  W  229,  20  ff. ) 

83,  19. — The  Alphabet,  and  that   in    gilt   letters.      (N  84,  10.) 

84,  9-30. — It  is  a  great  truth,  one  side  of  a  great  truth,  that  the 
Man  makes  the  Circumstances,  and  spiritually  as  well  as  econ- 
omically, is  the  artificer  of  his  own  fortune.  But  there  is 
another  side  of  the  same  truth,  that  the  man's  circumstances 
are  the  element  he  is  appointed  to  live  and  work  in  .  .  .  so  that 
in  another  no  less  genuine  sense,  it  can  be  said  that  the  Circum- 
stances make  the  Man.  (D  360,  i  ff.  L  H  389,  iS.  S  T  157, 
23  ff.  G  W  225,  21.)  84,  15,  and  note. — The  preservation  of 
his  game.  (B  288,  14;  340,  14.  ¥9,8.  D  339,  13  ff ;  345, 
22.  C  C  2,  14;  60,  27.)  86,  II. — For  every  road  Will  lead  one 
to  the  end  o'  th'  World.  C.'s  translation  of  Wilhdm  Tell,  in 
L,  S  211,37.)  87,  24  ff. — In  childhood,  the  most  unheeded,  but 
by  far  the  most  important  era  of  existence, — as  it  were,  the  still 
creation-days  of  the  whole  future  man, — he  had  breathed  the 
only  wholesome  atmosphere  oif  affection  and  joy.  (S  283,  24  ff. 
For  the  figure,  see  C  R  289,  33.)  87,  31. — Our  first  self-con- 
sciousness is  the  first  revelation  to  us  of  a  whole  universe,  won- 
drous and  altogether  good  :  it  is  a  feeling  of  joy  and  new-found 
strength,  of  mysterious  infinite  hope  and  capability.  (E  GL- 
391,  32  ff.)  88,  10-14  (cf  166,  16). — An  iron,  ignoble  circle  of 
necessity  embraces  all  things.  (Ch  77,  29.  G  H  171,  31.  Ch 
54,  33.  G  W  228,  10.)  88,  34  (cf  166,  16). — Necessity  and 
Free-will.  (C  C  31,  16.)  90,1. — ' The  veiled  Holy-of-Holies  of 
man.'      (Quoted  from  Richter,  J  A  189,  13.     J  24,  14.     G  1^46, 

25.) 

Chapter  III.  (For  examples  of  mis-education,  see  L,  S  18, 
5ff;  28,  3.  G  W233,  27.  ST  148,  15  ff.  C  R  275,  27.) 
9;,  24. — Rights  of  Man.  (L  S  206,  31.)  94,  30 — 95,  5. —  'The 
process  of  teaching  and  living  was  conducted  with  the  stiff  form- 
ality of  military  drilling  ;   everything  went    on    by    statute   and 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  31 

ordinance;  there  was  no  scope  for  the  exercise  of  free-will,  no 
allowance  for  the  varieties  of  original  structure.  .  .  The  same 
strict  and  narrow  course  of  reading  and  composition  was  marked 
out  for  each  beforehand,  and  it  was  by  stealth  if  he  read  or  wrote 
anything  beside.  (S  276,  36  ff.)  95,  15. — Mere  vocables. 
(S  270,  6.)  95,  18. — Gerund-grinder.  (L  H  358,  18,  cf  G  237, 
32.)  95,20. — Mere  Niirnberg  wax-work.  (T  S  37,  16.)  95, 
33,  and  Note.  — The  fit  use  of  such  a  man  is  as  hodman  ;  not 
feeling  the  plan  of  the  edifice,  let  him  carry  stones  to  it.  (D 
359,  2  ff.)  96,  18-22.  How  much  more  when  our  sunset  was 
of  a  living  sun  ;  and  its  bright  countenance  and  shining  return 
to  us,  not  on  the  morrow,  but  'no  more  again,  at  all,  forever!' 
(D  G  197,  12  ff.)  99,  21-27, — Leipsic  University  has  the  hon- 
or of  matriculating  him.  The  name  of  his  'propitious  mother' 
she  may  boast  of,  but  not  of  the  reality  :  alas,  in  these  days, 
the  University  of  the  Universe  is  the  only  propitious  mother 
of  such ;  all  other  propitious  mothers  are  but  unpropitious 
superannuated  dry-nurses  fallen  bedrid,  from  whom  the 
famished  nursling  has  to  steal  even  bread  and  water,  if 
he  will  not  die.  (G  W  239,  14  ff.)  99,  33. — The  blind  lead- 
ing the  blind,  both  fall  into  the  ditch.  (G  W  216,  31.)  100, 
26. — Puffery.  (See  11,  i.)  102,  21. — "Progress  of  the 
species."  (Iv  S  127,  9  ;  G  W  265,  33  ;  267,  30.  cf  V  41,  16.) 
102,  28.  cf  148,  17, — 'The  soul,  which  by  nature  looks  Heaven- 
ward, is  without  a  temple,  in  this  age.'  (Quoted  from  Richter, 
J  A  236,  32.  S  T  165,  12.  D  G  201,  II.)  102,  29. — Here  and 
there  some  traces  of  new  foundation,  of  new  building  up,  ma}' 
now  also,  to  the  e5'e  of  Hope,  disclose  themselves.  (D  307,  10. 
C  C  29,  22-30.)  102,  31. — Thought  must  needs  be  Doubt  and 
Inquiry,  before  it  can  again  be  Affirmation  and  Sacred  Precept. 
(Ch  So,  17.)  104,  5. — Men  are  grown  mechanical  in  head  and 
heart.  [S  T  150,  19.)  104,  24. — Like  a  frightful  dream. 
(ST  144,  18.)  107,  5.  cf  150,  20;  210,  29. — Friendship,  in 
the  old  heroic  sense  of  that  term,  no  longer  exists;  except  in  the 
cases  of  kindred  or  other  legal  affinit}- ;  it  is  in  reality  no  longer 
expected,  or  recognized  as  a  virtue  among  men.  (B  338,  28  ff. 
cf  Ch  61,  23-27.)  107,  II.  cf  146,  28. — 'What  good  is  it,'  will 
such  cry,  'when  we  had  still  some  faint    shadow   of   belief   that 


32  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.- 

man  was  better  than  a  selfish  Digesting-machine,  what  good  is 
it  to  poke  in,  at  every  turn,  and  explain  how  this  and  that 
which  we  thought  noble  in  old  Samuel,  was  vulgar,  base  ;  that 
for  him  too  that  was  no  reality  but  in  the  stomach.  .  .  ?'  (Bo 
118,25.) 

Chapter  IV.  — 108,  2-6,  and  note.  —  If  that  man  is  a 
benefactor  to  the  world  who  causes  two  ears  of  corn  to  grow 
where  only  one  grew  before,  much  more  is  he  a  benefactor  who 
causes  two  truths  to  grow  up  together  in  harmony  and  mutual 
confirmation,  where  before  only  one  stood  solitary,  and,  on  that 
side  at  least,  intolerant  and  hostile.  (G  L  39,  27  ff.)  113,  12, 
—  Skyey  messengers.  (N  L  342,  24.)  115,  30.  —  Sphinx 
question.  (G  W  259,  16.)  117,  9. — Holy  Alliance.  (G  W 
213,  30.  D  343,  24.)  120,  1-20. — One  Ivife  is  too  servilely  the 
copy  of  another  .  .  .  nothing  but  the  old  song  sung  b\'  a  new 
voice  .  .  .  and  for  the  zaords,  these,  all  that  the}'  meant  stands 
written  generally  as  the  churchj^ard-stone:  Natus  sum  :  esurie- 
bain,  qu(E7'cbam  ;  mcjic  repletus  reqiiiesco.  (Bo  140,  14.  cf  B  340, 
14  and    15.     Bo  176,  13.     D  340,  28  ff.) 

Cliapter  V.  121,  24-28.  —  The  world  without  us  and  with- 
in us  beshone  by  the  3-oung  light  of  Love,  and  all  instinct  with 
a  divinity,  is  beautiful  and  great.  (E  G  L,  392,)  2.  123,  11. 
Not  unvisited  of  skyey  messengers.  (NL342,  24.)  125,  9. —  We^- 
terism.  (V  34,  34.  G  W  251,  7.)  129,  15-17-  —  This  period 
also  passed  a waj',  with  its  good  and  its  evil;  of  which  chiefly 
the  latter  seems  to  be  remembered  ;  for  we  scarcely  ever  find 
the  affair  alluded  to.  except  in  terms  of  contempt,  b}'  the  title 
Aufkld7'e7'cy  (lUuminationism);  and  its  partisans,  in  subse- 
quent satirical  controversies,  received  the  nickname  oi  Philisteni 
(Philistines).  (G  L  74,  17  ff.  T  S  30,  30.)  130,  25-27. — 
Whether  in  that  ceremonial  joining  of  hands  there  might  not 
be  some  soft,  slight  pressure,  of  far  deeper  import,  is  what  our 
Singer  will  not  take  upon  him  to  say  ;  however,  he  thinks  the 
affirmative  more  probable.  (N  L  348,  32  ff.)  133,  7.  —  la 
Thurtell's  trial  (says  the  Quarterly  Revieiu)  occurred  the  fol- 
lowing colloquy  :  'Q.  What  sort  of  person  was  Mr.  Weare  ? 
A.  He  was  alwa3-s  a  respectable  person.  Q.  What  do  you 
mean   by    respectable   person?     A.     He    kept   a  gig.' — Since 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  33 

then  we  have  seen  a  'Defensio  Gigma7iica,  Apology  for  the 
Gigmen  of  Great  Britian,'  composed  not  without  eloquence, 
and  which  we  hope  one  day  to  prevail  on  our  friend,  a  man  of 
some  whims,  to  give  to  the  public.  (J  A  210,  3  and  Note.  cf. 
Bo  124,  15,  and  Note.  Also  see  B  346,  28.  G  W  227,  23.  Bo 
164,  30.     C  C  6,  5  ;  34,  5.) 

Chapter-  VI.  135,  9. — Satanic  Schools.  (G  W  251,  15. 
C  R  269,  7.)  138,  30. — The  sternest  sum-total  of  all  worldly 
misfortunes  is  Death;  nothing  more  can  lie  in  the  cup  of  human 
woe  :  yet  many  men,  in  all  ages,  have  triumphed  over  Death, 
and  led  it  captive.  (B  342,  8.  N  L  361,  22.  C  R  278,  28.) 
139,  16-31. — Accordingly,  he  sees  but  a  little  way  into  Nature  : 
the  mighty  All,  in  its  beauty,  and  infinite  mysterious  grandeur, 
humbling  the  small  Me  into  nothingness,  has  never  even  for 
moments  been  revealed  to  him.  (V  20,  25.)  140,  16. — Pic- 
turesque tourists.  (B  333,  8.)  143,  16,  and  7V<?/d'.  —  'The  end 
of  man,'  it  was  long  ago  written,  'is  an  Action,  not  a  Thought.' 
(Ch  72,  II  ;  74,  31  ;  E  G  D  392,  18.  D  313,  2.)  144,  29.— 
Behold  a  Byron,  in  melodious  tones,  'cursing  his  day.'  (Ch  79, 
8;  77,8.  C  R  293,  22.  TS16,  6.)  144,31.  See  162,  13.— 
Every  great  man,  Napoleon  himself,  is  intrinsically  a  poet,  an 
idealist,  with  more  or  less  completeness  of  utterrance.  (E  P 
258,  18.) 

Chapter  VII.  (For  the  title,  see  D  362,  34:  The  Eternal 
No.  See  also  similar  experiences  of  Goethe,  G  W  255,  and 
Schiller,  E  S  152.  Also  see  Moor's  soliloquy  on  suicide  in 
The  Robbers,  S  308,  309.  For  reference  to  such  experience,  see 
B  324,  25;  Ch  78,  29.)  145,  26.  cf  149,  27. — He  .  .  .  cannot 
reach  the  only  true  happiness  of  a  man,  that  of  clear,  decided 
Activity  in  the  sphere  for  which,  by  a  nature  and  circumstances, 
he  has  been  fitted  and  appointed.  (B  321,  16.  Ch  61,  29. 
G  W  243,  17.)  146,  25-147,  22. — Religion  in  most  countries, 
more  or  less  in  every  country,  is  no  longer  what  it  was,  and 
should  be, — a  thousand-voiced  psalm  from  the  heart  of  Man  to 
his  invisible  Father,  the  fountain  of  all  Goodness,  Beauty,  Truth, 
and  revealed  in  every  revelation  of  these  ;  but  for  the  most  part, 
a  wise,  prudential  feeling  grounded  on  mere  calculation  ;  a 
matter,  as  all  others  now  are,  of  Expediency  and  Utility;  where- 


34  The  GRO^YTH  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

by  some  smaller  quantum  of  earthly  enjoyment  may  be  ex- 
changed for  a  far  larger  quantum  of  celestial  enjoyment.  Thus 
Religion,  too,  is  Profit ;  a  working  for  wages  ;  not  Reverence, 
but  vulgar  Hope  or  Fear.  (S  T  165,  15  £f.  T  S  30,  i  ff. 
Ch.  76,  24  ff.)  146,  28.  cf.  107,  II. — So  far  as  men  are  not 
mere  digesting-machines.  (H  147,  23.)  147,  29.  cf.  174,  20. 
147,  10-21. — There  is  no  resource  for  it,  but  to  get  into  that 
interminable  ravelment  of  Reward  and  Approval,  virtue  being 
its  own  reward  ;  and  assert  louder  and  louder, — contrary  to  the 
stern  experience  of  all  men,  from  the  Divine  Man,  expiring  with 
agony  of  blood  sweat  on  the  accursed  tree,  down  to  us  two,  O 
reader  (if  we  have  ever  done  one  Duty) — that  Virtue  is  synonj^- 
mous  with  Pleasure.  Alas  !  was  Paul,  an  apostle  of  the  Gentiles, 
virtuous  ;  and  was  virtue  its  own  reward,  when  his  approving 
conscience  told  him  that  he  was  'the  chief  of  sinners,'  and 
(bounded  to  this  life  alone)  '  of  all  men  the  most  miserable  ?  ' 
(D  370,  7  ff.  C  C  27,  10.  H  254,  12.)  147,  13. — Dr.  Gra- 
hams. (C  C  25,  21.)  147,  17. — Nero  [with  quotation  from 
Tacitus  concerning  Nero's  punishment  of  the  Christians.]  (V 
3,  23  ff.  C  C  27,  II.)  147.19-  cf.  149,  5;  151,  4.—  'Nay, 
more,  this  hatred  of  Religion  .  .  .  changed  the  infinite,  creative 
music  of  the  Universe  into  the  monotonous  clatter  of  a  bound- 
less Mill,  which,  turned  by  the  stream  of  Chance,  and  swimming 
thereon,  was  a  Mill  of  itself,  without  Architect  and  Miller,  pro- 
perly, a  gQUumo. perpetuuni  mobile,  a  real,  self-grinding  Mill.' 
(Quoted  from  Novalis,  V  77,  35  ff.  ST  150,  12.)  148,  7-20. 
— cf.  Bo  160,  34  ff  :  If,  as  for  a  devout  nature  was  inevitable 
and  indispensable,  he  looked  up  to  Religion,  as  to  the  pole-star 
of  his  voyage,  already  there  was  no  fixed  pole-star  any  longer 
visible  ;  but  two  stars,  a  whole  constellation  of  stars,  each  pro- 
claiming itself  as  the  true.  There  was  the  red  portentous  comet- 
star  of  Infidelity;  the  dimmer  and  dimmer-burning  fixed  star 
...  of  Orthodoxy  •  .  .  148,  17. — cf.  102,  28.  148,  30. — No  one 
that  sees  into  the  significance  of  Johnson,  will  say  that  his  prime 
object  was  not  Truth.  (Bo  183,  i  ;  155,  i.)  149,  16. — The  true 
wretchedness  lies  here:  that  the  difficulty  remain  and  the 
strength  be  lost.  (Ch  76,  19.  G  W  261,  9.)  149,  27. —  'Know 
thyself,  value  thyself,  is  a   moralist's   commandment    (which   I 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  35 

only  half  approve  of)  ;  but  Knozu  others,  value  others,  is  the  hest 
of  Nature  herself.  Or  again,  Work  7v Jul c  it  is  called  To-day:  is 
not  that  also  the  irreversible  law  of  being  for  mortal  man?' 
(Quoted  from  Herr  Sauerteig,  C  C  3,  5  ff. )  151,  26. — He  .  .  . 
does  not  hang  or  drown  himself,  clearh'  understanding  that  death 
of  itself  will  soon  save  him  that  trouble.  (V  35,  11.)  152,  7. 
A  beautiful  death  ;  like  that  of  a  soldier  found  faithful  at  his 
post,  and  in  the  cold  hand  his  arms  still  grasped  !  (D  G  195, 
10.)  152,  33.  See  138,  30.  153,  21. — For  a  decrepit,  death- 
sick  Era,  when  Cant  had  first  decisively  opened  her  poison- 
breathing  lips  to  proclaim  .  .  .  that  Life  was  a  Lie,  and  the 
Earth  Beelzebub's.  (Bo  127,  20.)  153,23. — Eet  his  history 
teach  all  whom  it  concerns,  to  .  .  .  sa}^  composedly  to  the  Prince 
of  the  Power  of  this  lower  Earth  and  Air :  Go  thou  thy  way  ; 
I  go  mine  !    (D  336,  25  ff. ) 

Chapter  VIIL  154,18. — Howling  and  Ernulphus'-cursing. 
(D  362,  5.)  155,  10. — The  Present  is  the  living  sum-total  of 
the  whole  Past.  (Ch  87,  11.  G  W  209,  17;  258,  12.)  Ibid.— 
"  Always  one  age  produces  and  fashions  the  next:  on  the 
golden  stands  the  silver  ;  this  forms  the  brass  ;  and  on  the 
shoulders  of  all  stands  the  iron."  (Quoted  from  Richter,  J  R 
31.)  155  and  156. — The  venerator  of  the  Past  (and  to  what 
pure  heart  is  the  past,  in  that  'moonlight  of  memory,'  other 
than  sad  and  holy  ?)  sorrows  not  over  its  departure,  as  one 
utterly  bereaved.  The  true  Past  departs  not;  no  Truth  or  Good- 
ness realized  by  man  ever  dies,  or  can  die  ;  but  is  all  still  here, 
and,  recognized  or  not,  lives  and  works  through  endless  changes 
.  .  .  Thus  in  all  Poetry,  Worship,  Art,  Society,  as  one  form 
passes  into  another,  nothing  is  lost ;  it  is  but  the  superficial,  as 
it  were  the  body  only,  that  grows  obsolete  and  dies  ;  under  the 
mortal  bod}^  lies  a  soul  that  is  immortal  ;  that  anew  incarnates 
itself  in  fairer  revelation.  (Ch86,  28£f.)  156,  i. — Tubalcain. 
(C  R,  291,  9.)  156,  7  ff.  cf.  223,  25.  'Laws  themselves,  political 
Constitutions,  are  not  our  Eife,  but  only  the  house  wherein  our 
life  is  led  :  nay,  they  are  but  the  bare  walls  of  the  house  ;  all 
whose  essential  furniture,  the  inventions  and  traditions,  and 
daily  habits  that  regulate  and  support  our  existence,  are  the 
work  not  of  Dracos  and  Hampdens,  but  of  Phoenician  mariners, 


36  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

of  Italian  masons  and  Saxon  metallurgists,  of  philosophers, 
alchemists,  prophets,  and  all  the  long  forgotten  train  of  artists 
and  artisians.  (H248,  2  ff.)  156,  20-157,  18. — But  what,  after 
all,  is  meant  bj^  uneducated,  in  a  time  when  Books  have  come 
into  the  world  ;  come  to  be  household  furniture  in  every  habi- 
tation of  the  civilized  world  ?  In  the  poorest  cottage  are  Books; 
is  one  Book,  wherein  for  several  thousands  of  j^ears  the  spirit  of 
man  has  found  light,  and  nourishment,  and  an  interpreting 
response  to  whatever  is  Deepest  in  him.  .  .  'In  Books  lie  the 
creative  Phcenix-ashes  of  the  whole  Past.'  All  that  men  have 
devised,  discovered,  done,  felt,  or  imagined,  lies  recorded  in 
Books ;  wherein  whoso  has  learned  the  mystery  of  spelling 
printed  letters,  may  find  it,  and  appropriate  it.  (C  R  275,  11. 
V  82,  19  ff.  E  G  L  431,  21.)  156,  31. — The  rude  Histor}'  and 
Thoughts  of  those  same  '  Juifs  viiscrablcs\  the  barbaric  War- 
song  of  a  Deborah  and  Barak,  the  rapt  prophetic  Utterance  of 
an  unkempt  Isaiah,  last  now  (with  deepest  significance)  S2.y 
only  these  three  thousand  years.  (D  380,  17  ff-)  157,  2-6. — 
What  are  the  conquests  and  expeditions  of  the  whole  corpora- 
tion of  captains,  from  Walter  the  Pennyless  to  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte, compared  with  these  'movable  types  '  of  Johannes  Faust? 
Truly,  it  is  a  mortifying  thing  for  your  Conqueror  to  reflect, 
how  perishable  is  the  metal  which  he  hammers  with  such  vio- 
lence. (V  5,  20-  H  247,  25  ff. )  157,  3. — Which  actually  is 
a  kind  of  Book,  and  no  empty  paste-board  case,  and  simulacrum 
or  'ghost-defunct'  of  a  Book.  (C  R  271,  6.  B  291,  7.)  159, 
2-15. — Thus,  do  not  recruiting  sergeants  drum  through  the 
streets  of  manufacturing  towns,  and  collect  ragged  losels  enough; 
every  one  of  whom,  if  once  dressed  in  red,  and  trained  a  little, 
will  receive  fire  cheerfully  for  the  small  sum  of  one  shilling 
per  diem,  and  will  have  the  soul  blown  out  of  him  at  last,  with 
perfect  propriety.  (Bo  180,  21.  E  G  ly  430,  32.)  161,  17. — 
'  All  History  ...  in  so  far  as  it  is  a  affair  of  memor)%  can 
only  be  reckoned  a  sapless,  heartless  thistle  for  pedantic  chaf- 
finches ; — but,  on  the  other  hand,  like  Nature,  it  has  highest 
value,  in  as  far  as  we,  by  means  of  it,  as  by  means  of  Nature, 
can  divine  and  read  the  Infinite  Spirit,  who,  with  Nature  and 
Histor3%  as  with  letters,  legibly  writes  to   us.'       (Quoted  from 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  37 

Richter,  J  A  191,  Note.)  161,  15-25. — These  are  properly  our 
Men,  our  Great  Men;  the  guides  of  the  dull  host, —  which 
follows  them  as  by  an  irrevocable  decree.  They  are  the  chosen 
of  the  world  :  they  had  this  rare  faculty  not  only  of  '  supposing  ' 
and  '  inclining  to  think, '  but  of  knowing  and  believing  ;  the 
nature  of  their  being  was,  that  they  lived  not  by  Hearsay  but 
by  clear  Vision.  (Bo  143,  23.  S  290,  28.)  161,  18. — 'His- 
tory,' it  has, been  said,  'is  the  essence  of  innumerable  Biogra- 
phies.' (Bi  99,  5.  Bo  137  5.)  161,23. — A  natural  and  harm- 
less feeling  attracts  us  towards  such  a  subject  :  we  are  anxious 
to  know  how  so  great  a  man  passed  through  the  world, — how 
he  lived,  and  moved,  and  had  his  being  ;  and  the  question,  if 
properly  investigated,  might  jaeld  advantage  as  well  as  pleasure, 
(ly  S  ID,  8  ff.  V  9,  15.)  161,  24. ^At  Dijon,  there  were  per- 
sons of  distinction  that  wished  even  to  dress  themselves  as 
waiters,  that  they  might  serve  him  [Voltaire]  at  supper,  and 
see  him  by  this  stratagem.  (V  47,  7.  S  264,  11.)  162,  13. — 
See  144,  31.  164,  ID.  See  34,  30-34- — The  Dwarf  and  the 
Giant  are  alike  strong  with  pistols  between  them.  (EG  1*430, 
28.)      165,  14. — Captit  mortnum.      (V  72,  22.) 

Chapter  IX.  Cf  the  similiar  experience  of  Goethe  :  Till  at 
length,  in  the  third  or  final  period,  melodious  Reverence  be- 
comes triumphant  :  a  deep  all-pervading  Faith.  (G  W  255,  33 
ff.)  166,  16-19;  cf  88,  10  and  34. — This  same  struggle  of  hu- 
man Free-will  against  material  Necessity,  which  every  man's 
Life,  by  the  mere  circumstance  that  the  man  continues  alive, 
will  more  or  less  victoriously  exhibit.  (Bi  97,  3  ;  99,  22  ;  108, 
12.  N  Iv  369,  29.  V  34,  8.  Iv  S  27,  25;  188,  15.  E  G  L 
413,30.  CR27i,32.  G  W  226,  9.)  167,11.  cf  177,  17.— 
To  live  as  he  [Goethe]  counselled  and  commanded,  not  com- 
modiously  in  the  Reputable,  the  Plausible,  the  Half,  but  reso- 
lutely in  the  Whole,  the  Good,  the  True:  '/w  Ganzen,  Guten, 
Wahrefi  resolut  zu  lebenV  (D  G  205,  27.  S  272,  14,  and  Note.. 
D  365,  5  fif;  357.3;  359,  28.  B  342,  25.  Bo  138,  24.  C 
R  279,  21.)  167,  19. — He  enjo3^ed  the  fier}'  conscious- 
ness of  his  own  activity.  (L  S  239,  8.  D  378,  18.)  167,  29— 
168,  6. — 'The  special,  sole,  and  deepest  theme  of  the  World's 
and  Man's  History,'  says  the  Thinker  of  our  time,    'whereto  all 


38       The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

other  themes  are  subordinated,  remains  the  Conflict  of  Unbe- 
lief and  Belief.'  (D  380,  28.)  168,  22.  cf.  231,  16. — Holy  of 
Holies.  (E  G  L,  389,  19.)  169,  14. — The  true  philosophical  Act 
is  annihilation  of  self  {Selbsttbdhing);  this  is  the  real  begin- 
ning of  all  Philosophy  ;  all  requisites  for  being  a  Disciple  of 
Philosophy  point  hither.  This  Act  alone  corresponds  to  all  the 
conditions  and  characteristics  of  transcendental  conduct. 
(Quoted  from  Novalis,  N  124,  22.  D  371,  19.  B  342,  17.  L,  W 
130,  7.)  169,  30-32. — The  Ivife  of  man  was  encompassed  and 
over-canopied  by  a  glory  of  Heaven,  even  as  his  dwelling  place 
by  the  azure  vault.  (Ch  77,  24.)  171,  12. — God's  world,  if 
made  a  House  of  Imprisonment,  can  also  be  a  House  of  Prayer. 
(C  R  285,  24.)  171,  33. — 'Sanctuary  of  Sorrow.'  (N  iii,  9.) 
172,  24-34. — How  mad  it  is  to  hope  for  contentment  to  our  in- 
finite soul  from  the:  gifts  of  this  extremely  finite  world!  (B  324, 
16.)  Ibid. — The  poorest  human  soul  is  infinite  in  wishes.  (G 
H  178,  22.)  173,  8. — Or  this  small  Couplet,  which  the  reader, 
if  he  will,  may  substitute  for  whole  horse-loads  of  Essays  on 
the  Origin  of  Evil  ....:'  "What  shall  I  teach  thee,  the  fore- 
most thing  ?"  Couldst  teach  me  off  my  own  Shadow  to  Spring!' 
(G  W  257,  I  ff.)  173,  9-174,  16. — With  a  whirlwind  impetu- 
osity he  [Faust]  rushes  forth  over  the  Universe  to  grasp  all  ex- 
cellence ;  his  heart  yearns  toward  the  infinite  and  the  invisible: 
only  that  he  knows  not  the  conditions  under  which  alone  this 
is  to  be  attained.  Confiding  in  his  feeling  of  himself,  he  has 
started  with  the  tacit  persuasions,  so  natural  to  all  men,  that 
/le  at  least,  however  it  may  fare  with  others,  shall  and  must  be 
happy ;  a  deep-seated,  though  only  half-conscious  conviction 
lurks  in  him,  that  whenever  he  is  not  successful,  fortune  has 
dealt  with  him  unjustly  .  .  .  For  in  all  his  lofty  aspirings  .  .  . 
it  has  never  struck  him  to  inquire  .  .  .  by  what  right  he  pre- 
tended to  be  happy,  or  could,  some  short  space  ago,  have  pre- 
tended to  i^t' at  all.  (G  H  175,22  —  176,  4.)  173,  30. — That 
law  of  Self-denial,  by  which  alone  man's  narrow  destiny  may  be- 
come an  infinitude  within  itself'  (G  H  178,  25.)  173,  34. — 
The  sublime  lesson  of  Resignation.  (V  35,  17.)  174,  16. — In 
the  nobler  lyiterature  of  the  Germans,  say  some,  lie  the  rudi- 
ments of  a  new   spiritual   era  ...  at    a   time  when  .   .   .   even 


The  Growth  of  Sartor    Resartus.  39 

our  Byrons  could  utter  but  a    death-song   or   despairing   howl, 
the  Moses' -wand  has  again  smote  from    that    Horeb  refreshing 
streams.     (T  S  15,  33  —  16,    8.)      174,    16 — 175,    4.     cf.    147, 
29. — If  Happiness  mean  Welfare,  there  is  no  doubt  but  all  men 
should  and  must  pursue  their  Welfare,    that   is  to   say,   pursue 
what  is  worthy  of  their  pursuit.      But  if,   on  the  other  hand. 
Happiness  mean,  as  for  most  men  it  does,  'agreeable  sensations,' 
Enjo3'ment  refined  or  not,  then  we  must  observe  that  there  is  a 
doubt ;  or  rather  there  is  a  certainty    the   other   way.     Strictly 
considered,  this  truth,  that  man  has  in  him    something  higher 
than  a  lyove  of  Pleasure,  take  Pleasure  in  what  sense  you    will, 
has  been  the  text  of  all  true  Teachers  and  Preachers,  since   the 
beginning  of  the  world.      (S  292,  i2ff.)      175,  23. — The  ancient 
creative  Inspiration,  it  would  seem,   is   still   possible    in   these 
ages.     (T  S  16,  2.)      176,  3-9. — Will  Mr.  Taylor  mention  what 
it  was  that  Voltaire  rc/ormed?     Many  things  he  de-iovmad,  de- 
servedly and  undeservedly,  but  the  thing  that  he  formed  or  re- 
formed  is  still  unknown  to  the  world.    (T  S  29,  30.    Bo  164,  26; 
191,    3.       V    69,    21.       C    R   301,     19.)       176,    16    and     17. — 
'No  explanation  is  required  for  Holy  Writing.     Whoso  speaks 
truly  is  full  of  eternal  life,  and  wonderfully   related   to   genuine 
mysteries  does  his  Writing  appear  to  us. '    ( Quoted  from  Novalis, 
N    114,   20.)     /3/d. — 'Can  Miracles   work    Conviction?     Or   is 
not  real  Conviction,  this  highest  function  of  our   soul   and   per- 
sonality, the  only  true  God-announcing  Miracle?'   (Quoted  from 
Novalis,  128,  26.)      176,  22,   and  see  C's  Index    under    "Bible 
of  Universal  History." — Infessenceand  significance  it  [History] 
has  been  called   'the   true    Epic  Poem,    and    Universal    Divine 
Scripture,  whose  "plenary  inspiration"  no  man  (out  of  Bedlam, 
or  in  it)  shall  bring  in  question.'     (H  A  392,  3.     G  C  2,  33.     V 
70,  8.     J  A  191,  Note.     H  254,  22.)      177,  7. — A  mere  Ossian's 
'feast  of  shells,' — the  food  and  liquor  being  all  emptied  out  and 
clean  gone.      (Bi  99,    33  ff.)      177,    14.— 'Fitchte's  Philosophy 
too  is  perhaps  applied  Christianity.'     (Quoted  from  Novalis,  N 
128,  25.)      177,  17.    See  167,  II.      177,  26. — Doubt  isthe  indis- 
pensable, inexhaustible  material  whereon  Action  works,  which 
Action  has  to  fashion  into  Certainty  and  Reality.     (Ch    73,    6  ; 
75,  9.     ST  154,  9.)     177,  31. -^Our  grand  business  undoubtedl}^ 


40  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

is,  not  to  see  what  lies  dimly  at  a  distance,  but  to  do  what  lies 
clearly  at  hand.  (8X143,4.  80145,26;  167,4.)  178,  11. 
— For  he  [Goethe]  has  conquered  his  unbelief ;  the  Ideal  has 
been  built  on  the  actual.  (G  249,  28  ;  231,  25.  B  302,  5.  S 
271,  22.  G  Po  94,  15.  D  365,  3.)  179,  5  and  Note. — A^och 
ist  es  Tag,  da  ruhre  sich  der  Mann,  Die  Nacht  tritt  eiyi,  wo  nie- 
mand  zvirken  kann .  (G  P  435,  11.  Ch  91,  33;  75,  32.  G  W 
267,  7.     V  76,  25.) 

Chapter  X.  180,  5,  cf  35,  22  ff.  180,  19. — This  noble  art 
[printing],  which  is  like  an  infinitely  intensated  organ  of 
Speech.  (EGL431,  21.)  180,  23. — Let  a  man  but  speak 
forth  with  genuine  earnestness  the  thought,  the  emotion,  the 
actual  condition,  of  his  own  heart ;  and  other  men  .  .  .  must 
and  will  give  heed  to  him.  (B  297,  33  ff.)  180,  33. — A  seed 
cast  into  the  seedfield  of  Time.  (C  C  14,  16.)  184,  2-11. — 
[Gives  the  gist  of  H.]  184,  17,  and  Note,  also  Note  on  199, 
19. — Serpent-of-eternity.  (G  W  256,  Note.)  185,  26,  and 
Note. — Let  us  mark  well  the  road  he  fashioned  for  himself,  and 
in  the  dim  weltering  chaos  rejoice  to  find  a  paved  way.  (G  W 
266,  6.     C  R  297,  5.) 


BOOK  III. 
Chapter  I.  189,  19.  cf  192,  25. — Human  perfectibility. 
(L  S  147,  18.  S  301,  28.)  189,  20-24. — The  time  may  come, 
when  Napoleon  himself  will  be  better  known  for  his  laws  than 
for  his  battles;  and  the  victory  of  Waterloo  prove  less  moment- 
ous than  the  opening  of  the  first  Mechanics'  Institute.  (V  6, 
II.)  189,22.  Peterloo.  (¥12,23.  80181,13.)  189,25.  George 
Fox  .  .  .  laboring  with  a  poetic,  a  religious  idea.  (G  L  79,  ii-) 
189,  28,  and  note. — '  Divine  Idea  of  the  World.'  (J  A  243,  14. 
V  21,  I.)  191,  24. — To  the  young  Strasburg  student  [Goethe] 
the  gods  had  given  their  most  precious  gift  ...  a  seeing  eye 
and  a  faithful,  loving  heart :  'Er  hatV  ein  Auge  treu  and  king, ' 
&c.  (G  W  250,  21  ff.  B  303,  9;  305,  19.  Bi  109,  13  and  32. 
Bo  123,  9;  1288;  168,6.  C  R  2S0,  20.  D  331,  20.  H  A 
386,  29.)  191,  34  and  Note. — The  grand  Vanity  lair  of  the 
World.     (Bo  143,  30.) 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  41 

Chapter  II.  194,  15 — 195,  12  and  Note  on  194,  2.8. — But 
with  regard  to  Morals  strictly  so  called,  it  is  in  Society,  we 
might  almost  say,  that  Morality  begins  .  .  .  Man  has  joined 
himself  with  man ;  soul  acts  and  reacts  on  soul  ;  a  mystic, 
miraculous,  unfathomable  Union  establishes  itself  ;  I^ife,  iii  all 
its  elements,  has  become  intensated,  consecrated.  The  light- 
ning spark  of  Thought,  generated,  or  say  rather  heaven-kindled, 
in  the  solitary  mind,  awakens  its  express  likeness  in  another 
mind,  in  a  thousand  other  minds,  and  all  blaze  up  together  in 
combined  fire.  .  .^  Last,  as  the  crown  and  all-supporting  key- 
stone of  the  fabric,  Religion  arises.  The  devout  meditation  of 
the  isolated  man,  which  flitted  through  his  soul,  like  a  transient 
tone  of  Love  and  Awe  from  unknown  lands,  acquires  certainty, 
continuance,  when  it  is  shared  in  b}^  his  brother  men.  '  Where 
two  or  three  are  gathered  together,'  in  the  name  of  the  Highest, 
then  first  does  the  Highest,  as  it  is  written,  '  appear  among  them 
to  bless  them  "...  Such  is  Society  .  .  .  the  standing  wonder 
of  our  existence  ;  a  true  region  of  the  supernatural.  (Ch  57 
and  58.)  195,  22  and  196,  21.  cf.  204,  3.  A  Symbol,  indeed 
[the  church],  waxing  old  as  doth  a  garment.  (Bo  167,  14.) 
195'  31 — 196,  17-  Every  Society,  every  Polity,  has  a  spiritual 
principle;  is  the  embodiment,  tentative,  and  more  or  less  com- 
plete, of  an  Idea.  .  .  .  This  idea,  be  it  of  devotion  to  a  Man  or 
class  of  Men,  to  a  Creed,  to  an  Institution,  or  even,  as  in  more 
ancient  times,  to  a  piece  of  land,  is  ever  a  true  Loyalty  ;  has  in 
it  something  of  a  religious,  paramount,  quite  infinite 
character  ;  it  is  properly  the  Soul  of  the  State,  its  Life.  (Ch  60, 
I  ff. )  196,  20-27. — 'And  when  I  looked  up  toward  the  im- 
measurable world  for  the  Divine  eye,  it  glared  down  on  me 
with  an  empty,  bottomless  eye-socket;  and  eternity  lay  upon 
chaos,  eating  it  and  re-eating  it-  Cry  on,  ye  discords  !  Cry 
away  the  shadows,  for  He  is  not!'  (Quoted  from  Richter, 
J  R  33.  D  361,  34  ff-)  196,  22.  cf.  214,  10. — Hollow  masks. 
(J  16,  16.) 

Chapter  III. — 197,  23.  cf.  199,  34.— Strangely,  from  its 
dim  environment,  the  light  of  the  Highest  looks  through  him. 
(Bo  143,  5.)  198,  3-26. — Speak  not,  I  passionately  entreat 
thee,  till  thy   thought   have   silently    matured    itself,    till    thou 


42.  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

have  other  than  mad  and  mad-making  noises  to  emit :  hold  thy 
tongue  (thou  hast  it  a-holding)  till  some  meaning  lie  behind, 
to  set  it  wagging.  Consider  the  significance  of  SiIvEnce  :  it  is 
boundless  ...  *  Speech  is  silvern,  Silence  is  golden  ;  Speech  is 
humnn.  Silence  is  divine.'  (Bo  139,  7  ff ;  182,  11.)  198,  27 — 
199,  II, — What  feeling  it  was  in  the  ancient,  devout,  deep  soul, 
which  of  Marriage  made  a  Sacrament  :  this,  of  all  things  in  the 
world,  is  what  Denis  will  think  of  for  aeons,  without  discovering 
.  .  .  How  shall  he  for  whom  nothing  that  cannot  be  jargoned  of 
in  debating-clubs  exists,  have  any  faintest  forecast  of  the  depth, 
significance,  divineness  of  Silence  ;  of  the  sacredness  of 
'  Secrets  known  to  all?  '  (D  368,  29 — 369,  26.  N  L  354,  13-) 
199,  19.  See  184,  17.  199,  34.  See  197,  23.  200,  13.  See  151, 
4.  200,  14-32. — Those  attempts  to  parcel  out  the  invisible, 
mystical  Soul  of  Man,  with  its  infinitude  of  phases  and  character, 
into  shop-lists  of  what  are  called  'faculties,'  '  motives,'  and 
suchlike.  (D  375,  6.)  200,  24. — Genius  of  Mechanism.  (S 
T  150,  12  ;  162,  15.  Ch  55,  4.  D  359,  24  ;  362,  10  ;  366,  24  ; 
369,  20.)  201,  II. —  For  if  the  Poet,  or  Priest,  or  by  whatever 
title  the  inspired  thinker  may  be  named,  is  the  sign  of  vigor 
and  well-being ;  so  likewise  is  the  lyOgician,  or  uninspired 
thinker,  the  sign  of  disease,  probably  of  decreptitude  and  decay. 
(Ch  62,  8.  B  307,  17.)  201,  29. — Kaiser  Joseph.  (C  C  18, 
17.)  203,  II. — '  The  life  of  every  man,'  says  our  friend  Herr 
Sauerteig,  ...  'is  a  Poem.'  (C  C  i,  i.  G  W  207,  22.)  203, 
16. — '  Death,'  says  the  Philosopher,  '  is  a  commingling  of  Eter- 
nity with  Time  ;  in  the  death  of  a  good  man.  Eternity  is  seen 
looking  through  Time.'  (D  G  197,  25.  Bo  132,  13.  D  357, 
32.)  203,  19. — We  reckon  that  every  poet  of  Burns's  order  is, 
or  should  be,  a  prophet  and  teacher  to  his  age.  (B  341,  23  ; 
345,  10.  E  G  E  440,  34.)  204,  3.  See  195,  22. — For  wull  not 
our  own  age,  one  day,  be  an  ancient  one ;  and  have  as  quaint 
a  costume  as  the  rest  .  .  .  ?  (B  301,  24.)  204,  11. — Mumbo- 
jumbos.  (Bo  144,  4.)  204,  26-29. — For  in  poetry  we  have 
heard  of  no  secret  .  .  .  except  this  one  general  secret  :  that  the 
poet  be  a  man  of  a  purer,  higher,  richer  nature  than  other  men; 
which  higher  nature  shall  itself  .  .  ,  have  taught  him  the  proper 
form  for  embodying  its  inspirations,  as  indeed  the  imperishable 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  43 

beauty  of  these  will  shine,  with  more  or  less  distinctness, 
through  any  form  whatever.  (G  P  430,  6  ff.)  205,  8. —  This 
Rag-fair  of  a    world.     (G  Po  94,  12.) 

Chapter  IV.  205,14. — Repression  of  Population.  (Ch  66, 
22.  C  C  2,  14;  26,  13.  This  last  pa.ssage  suggests  the  sub- 
ject of  the  chapter.)  206,  igff. — How  comes  it,  that  he  alone  of 
all  the  British  rustics  who  tilled  and  lived  along  with  him,  on 
whom  the  blessed  sun  on  that  same  '  fifth  day  of  vSeptember  ' 
was  shining,  should  have  chanced  to  rise  on  us  ;  that  this  four 
pair  of  clouted  shoes,  out  of  the  million  million  hides  that  have 
been  tanned,  and  cut,  and  worn,  should  still  subsist,  and  hang 
visibly  together?  (Bi  107,  iS.)  206.  25. — Though  but  a  hard- 
handed  peasant,  a  complete  and  fully  unfolded  Man.  (B  322. 
17.)  206,  31. — Defaced  and  obstructed  yet  glorious  man  ; 
archangel  though  in  ruins, — or  rather,  though  in  rubbishy  of 
encumbrances  and  mud-incrustations,  which  also  are  not  to  be 
perpetual.  (Bo  170, //<?/<?.)  207,4-13. — Clear,  in  the  meanwhile, 
it  is  that  the  true  Spiritual  Edifier  and  Soul's-Father  of  all 
England  was,  and  till  very  lately  continued  to  be,  the  man 
named  Samuel  Johnson.  (Bo  176,  23.  C  R  2S7,  g.)  207,  20 
ff. — How  were  it  if  we  surmised,  that  for  a  man  gifted  with 
natural  vigor,  with  a  man's  character  to  be  developed  in  him, 
more  especially  if  in  the  way  of  Literature,  as  Thinker  and 
Writer,  it  is  actuall)' ,  in  these  strange  da3's  no  special  misfor- 
tune to  be  trained  up  among  the  Uneducated  classes,  and  not 
among  the  Educated  ;  but  rather  of  two  misfortunes  the  smaller? 
(C  R  272,  30  ff.)  207,  32  ff. — The  Craftsman,  too,  has  an  in- 
heritance in  Earth;  and  even  in  Heaven.  (C  R  291,  10.) 
208,  13.— There  are  some  thirt5'-six  persons  that  manifest  it 
[the  Courage  that  dares  only  die']^  .  .  .  during  every  second  of 
time.  (Bo  180,30.)  209,  iff.  Mournful  enough,  that  a  white, 
European  man  must  pray  wistfulh'  for  what  the  horse  he  drives 
is  sure  of.     (C  R  293,  10.) 

Chapter  V.  (For  the  general  idea  of  the  chapter  see  Ch  58, 
32  ff ;  65,  2ff.  cf.  G  \V  259,  6;  C  R  269,  10;  275,  22.  D  342, 
■^■%,-  C  C  28,  13,  29,  2.  Bo  160,  6.)  210,  29. — See  107,  5. 
211,  10.— Sad  to  look  upon,  in  the  highest  stage  of  civilization, 
nine-tenths  of  mankind    must  struggle  in  the    lowest    battle    of 


4.4  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

savage  or  even  animal  man,  the  battle  against  Famine.  (Cli 
67.27.)  212,7.  cf  214,  16. — Utilitarian.  (¥1,5.  GW223, 
15.)  'Ivavvs  of  Mechanism'.  (Quoted  from  Novalis,  V  79,  14. 
H  252,  27.)  213,  14-24. — The  fever  of  Skepticism  must  needs 
burn  itself  out,  and  burn  out  thereby  the  Impurities  that  caus- 
ed it ;  then  again  will  there  be  clearness,  health.  The  prin- 
ciple of  Ivife,  which  now  struggles  painfully,  in  the  outer,  thin 
and  barren  domain  of  the  Conscious  or  Mechanical,  may  then 
withdraw  into  its  inner  Sanctuaries,  its  abysses  of  mystery  and 
Miracle  ;  withdraw  deeper  than  ever  into  that  domain  of  the 
Unconscious,  by  nature  infinite  and  inexhaustible;  and  creatively 
work  there.  (Ch  88,  19  ff.)  213,  21  and  Note. — 'Vested  in- 
terests.' (S  T  159,  15.)  214,  10.  See  196,  22.  214,  16. — 
Utilitarian.  (V  1,5.  T  S  30,  32.  G  L/  61,  10.)  214,  24-28. 
— ^^So  that  Society,  were  it  by  nature  immortal,  and  its  death 
ever  a  new  birth,  might  appear,  as  it  does  in  the  eyes  of  some, 
to  be  sick  to  dissolution,  and  even  now  writhing  in  its  last 
agony.      (Ch  68,  12.) 

Chapte7'  VI.  217,  17.  See  58,  i-io.  217,  23. — 'The 
father  of  all  such  as  wear  shovel-hats.'  (D  357,  10.  Bo  116, 
19.)  219,  17. — How  grim  was  L,ife  to  him;  a  sick  Prison- 
house.  (Bo  182,  17.  Ch  47,  19.  C  R  285,  25.)  220,  2. — 
Dionysius'  Ear.  (V  26,  24.)  220,  25.  Delphic  Oracle.  (V 
27,  10.     S  T  146,  10.) 

Chapter  VII.  (For  the  subject  matter  of  the  chapter,  see 
S  T  167-171  ;  T  S  42,  last  H;  Ch  85  ;  G  W  259.)  222,3.— 
Alas,  with  us  and  with  our  sons  (for  a  generation  or  two),  it  is 
almost  still  worse,  —  were  it  not  that  in  Birth-throes  there  is 
ever  hope,  in  Death-throes  the  final  departure  of  Hope.  (C  C 
25,  3.  G  W  212,  18.  D  371,  21.)  223,  25  ff.  See  156,  7ff. 
225,  17. — Thus  the  universal  title  of  respect,  from  the  Oriental 
Scheik,  from  the  Sachem  of  the  red  Indians,  down  to  our  English 
Sir,  implies  only  that  he  whom  we  mean  to  honor  is  our  Senior. 
(Ch  57,  33ff.)  225,  26. — Kenned,  which  in  those  days  still 
partially  meant  canned.  (C  R  276,  5.)  225,  33. — The  true 
Autocrat  and  Pope  is  that  man,  the  real  or  seeming  Wisest  of 
the  past  age  ;  crowned  after  death  ;  who  finds  his  Hierarchy 
of  gifted  Authors,  his    clergy  of   assiduous   journalists  ;  whose 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  45 

Decretals,  written  not  on  parchment,  but  on  the  living  souls  of 
men,,  it  were  an  inversion  of  the  I^aws  of  Nature  to  disobey. 
(T  S  41,  26.)  227,  32  ff. — Great  men  are  the  Fire-pillars  in 
this  dark  pilgrimage  of  mankind  ;  they  stand  as  heavenly 
Signs;  ever-living  witnesses  of  what  has  been,  prophetic  token 
of  what  may  still  be,  the  revealed,  embodied  Possibilities  of 
human  nature ;  which  greatness  he  who  has  never  seen,  or 
rationally  conceived  of,  and  with  his  whole  heart  passionately 
loved  and  reverenced,  is  himself  forever  doomed  to  be  little. 
(S  265,  4  ff.  C  C  I,  16.)  228. — (For  the  reverence  of  past 
men,  see  G  W  212-218.)  228,  yff. — Reverence,  the  highest 
feeling  that  man's  nature  is  capable  of,  the  crown  of  his  whole 
moral  manhood  and  precious  like  fine  gold.  (V  20,  19  ff.  Bo 
130,  15.  G  W  209  ff.)  228,  15. — Hero-worship.  (Bo  127, 
13.)  228,  31.  'Whenever  a  De  Stael,  with  all  her  knowledge 
of  our  languages  and  authors  .  .  .  continues,  nevertheless, 
Gothic  in  tongue  and  taste,  what  blossom-crops  are  we  to  look 
for  from  the  dry    timber?     (Quoted    from    Richter,    J    R   35-) 

229,  8. — There  is,  even  to  the  modest  man,  no  greatness  so  vener- 
able as  intellectual,  as  spiritual  greatness  ;  nay  properly  there 
is  no  other  venerable  at  all.  (Bo  170,  Note.^  229,  15 — 230, 
15. — 'The  man  of  lyCtters  is,  by  instinct,  opposed  to  a  Priest- 
hood of  old  standing  :  the  literary  class  and  the  clerical  must 
wage  a  war  of  extermination,  when  they  are  divided  ;  for  both 
strive  after  one  place.'  (Quoted  from  Novalis,  V  77,  17  ff.  T 
841,29.  Ch  62,  2  ;  70,  4  ;  89,  33.  0330,19.  Iv  S  63,  19; 
235,  30.  H  256,  9.  S  274,  10  ff.)  230,  I.— Religion,  Poetry, 
is  not  dead  ;  it  will  never  die.  (G  L  93.  i7-  V  80,  21.)  230, 
3. — The  lowest  of  froth  Prose.  (Bi  100,  10;  112,  21.)  230, 
II.— 'Melody  of  Wisdom.'  (G  W  268,  i  and  17.  C  R  281, 
34.)  230,  15. — We  hold  Goethe  to  be  the  Foreigner,  at  this 
era,  who,  of  all  others,  the  best,  and  the  best  by  many  degrees, 
deserves  our  study  and  appreciation.  (G  H  219,  15;  163,  12. 
D  G  202,  II.  G  W  268,  29.  Similar  praise  is  given  to  Rich- 
ter, J  A  176,  15.)  230,  17,  and  Note. — How  can  your  publish- 
ing avail,  when  there  was  no  vision  in   it?     (HA  386,   28.) 

230,  29.     See  161,  17. 


46  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

Chapter  VIII.  (For  the  title,  see  G  W  262,  13.  For  a 
part  of  the  contents  anticipated,  see  review  of  the  Kantian 
philosophy,  N  109  ff.  M  pp  308-309.)  231,  16. — See  168,  22. 
234,  I  ff. — These  men  and  these  things,  we  indeed  know,  did 
swim,  by  strength  or  by  specific  levity  (as  apples  or  as  horse- 
dung),  on  the  top  of  the  current :  but  is  it  by  painfully  noting 
the  courses,  eddyings,  and  bobbings  hither  and  thither  of  such 
drift-articles  that  you  will  unfold  to  me  the  nature  of  the  cur- 
rent itself  ;  of  that  mighty-rolling,  loud-roaring,  Life-current, 
bottomless  as  the  foundations  of  the  Universe,  mysterious  as 
its  Author?  (Bo  134,  25  ff.)  234,  23. — For  the  rest,  let  that 
vain  struggle  to  read  the  m3^stery  of  the  Infinite  cease  to  harass 
us.  It  is  a  mj'ster}'  which,  through  all  ages,  we  shall  only 
read  here  a  line  of.  (Ch  91,  24.)  235,  16. — For  the  most  part, 
the  Common  is  to  him  still  the  Common  .  .  .  Herein  Schiller 
.  .  .  differs  essentially  from  most  great  poets  ;  and  from  none 
more  than  from  his  great  contemporary,  Goethe.  (S  300,  27  ff. 
Ch  90,  30.)  236,  17  ff.  See  34,  18-21.  236,  29. — Fo7't2inahis. 
(E  G  ly  416,  21.)  237,  17. — A  little  row  of  Naphtha-lamps  .  .  . 
burns  clear  and  holy  through  the  dead  night  of  the  Past  :  they 
who  are  gone  are  still  here  ;  though  hidden  they  are  revealed, 
though  dead  they  yet  speak.  (Bo  133,  27.)  237,  19. — Mem- 
ory and  hope.  (L,  S  108,  12.)  239,  10  ff. — The  true  poet  who 
is  but  the  inspired  Thinker,  is  still  an  Orpheus  whose  Lyre 
tames  the  savage  beasts,  and  evokes  the  dead  rocks  to  fashion 
themselves  into  palaces  and  stately  inhabited  cities.  (T  S  41, 
16.)  239,  21. — -Music  of  the  spheres.  (Ch  47,  9.  D  380,  26.) 
240,  7. — The  aspect  of  the  Infinite  Universe  still  fills  him  with 
an  Infinite  feeling  ;  he  soars  free  aloft,  and  the  sunny  regions  of 
Poesy  and  Freedom  gleam  golden  afar  on  the  widened  horizon. 
(C  R  286,  2.)  240,17 — Ghost  of  Cock-lane  !  (C  C  25,  22.) 
240,  31 — Like  a  fair,  heavenl}^  Apparition,  which  indeed  he 
was,  he  has  melted  into  air.  (N  L  381,  24.  C  C  i,  8.)  241, 
i-io. — As  if  Bedlam  had  broken  loose  ;  as  if  rather  (in  that 
'  spiritual  Twelfth-hour  of  the  Night  ')  the  everlasting  Pit  had 
opened  itself,  and  from  its  still  blacker  bosom  had  issued  mad- 
ness and  all  manner  of  shapeless  Misbirths,  to  masquerade  and 
chatter  there  ...  In  that  stertorous  last  fever-sleep  of  our  Euro- 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  47 

pean  world,  must  not  Phantasms  enongh  (horn  of  the  Pit,  as 
all  such  are)  flit  past,  in  ghastly  masquerading  and  chattering  ? 
(C  C  25,  22.)  241,  12. — Spectre  Hunt.  (T  S  3,  13.)  241,  20. 
— The  real  spiritual  Appar//w?is  (who  have  been  named  Men). 
(G  W  208,  18.)  242.  See  17,  28.— The  Mitre  Tavern  still 
stands  in  Fleet  Street  :  but  where  now  is  its  scot-and-lot  paying, 
beef-and-ale  loving,  cocked-hatted,  potbellied  Landlord  ;  its 
rosy-faced,  assiduous  Landlady  .  .  ?  Gone !  Gone !  The 
becking  waiter,  that  with  wreathed  smiles,  wont  to  spread  for 
Samuel  and  Bozzy  their  '  supper  of  the  gods,'  has  long  since 
pocketed  his  last  sixpence  ;  and  vanished,  sixpences  and  all, 
like  a  ghost  at  cock-crowing.  .  .  .  All,  all,  has  vanished  ;  in 
very  deed  and  truth,  like  that  baseless  fabric  of  Prospero's  air- 
vision.  (Bo  133,  2  ff.  D  G  205,  13.)  242,  23. — Still  deeper 
than  this  IV/ie nee  were  the  question  of  Whither.  (D  334,  4.) 
242,  26  ff.  (This  quotation  from  the  Tempest  was  made  by 
Richter,  and  is  requoted  by  C,  J  A  237,  27  ff.     C  R  287,   15  ff.) 

Chapter  IX.  245,  16.  See  60,  iff.  245,  26. — Magna  charta. 
(H  A  390,  28.)     246,  I.—'  Codification.'— (S  T  156,  12.) 

Chapter  X.  (For  the  fundamental  idea  of  this  chapter,  see 
G  W  217,  last  H.  For  the  "  Poor-Slave  "  idea,  see  Ch  67,  9. 
Bo  151,  19  ;  169,  9.)  251,  31. — Pipe  ...  on  so  many  scrannel 
straws.  (S  T  166,  17)  255,  6. — By  the  three  monastic  vows 
he  was  not  bound.  (S  274,  16.  S  T  166,  13.)  256,  27.— Mere 
potatoes-and-point !  (0047,27.)  256,  18.— '  Rhizophagous.' 
(G  W  249,  16.)  259,  28 — 260,  15. — What  changes,  too,  this 
addition  of  power  is  introducing  into  the  social  system  ;  how 
wealth  has  more  and  more  increased,  and  at  the  same  time 
gathered  itself  more  and  more  into  masses,  strangely  altering 
the  old  relations,  and  increasing  the  distance  between  the  rich 
and  the  poor,  will  be  a  question  for  Political  Economists,  and 
a  much  more  complex  and  important  one  than  any  they  have 
yet  engaged  with.  (S  T  147,  32  ff.  C  R  283.)  260,  16-34.— 
In  such  a  state  of  things,  there  lay  abundant  principles  of  dis- 
cord: these  two  influences  hung  like  fast  gathering  electric 
clouds,  as  yet  on  opposite  sides  of  the  horizon,  but  with  a  mal- 
ignity of  aspect,  which  boded,  whenever  they  might  meet,  a 
sky  of  fire  and  blackness,  thunderbolts  to  waste  the  earth,   and 


48  The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus. 

the  sun  and  stars,  though  but  for  a  season,  to  be  blotted  out 
from  the  heavens.     (V  23,  20  ff.) 

Chapter  XI.  (For  suggestions  of  the  subject  of  this  chap- 
ter, see  Bo  130,  19.  G  W  213,  36.)  262,  4. — PeHon  upon  Ossa. 
(J  16,  8.) 

Chapter  XII.  267,  11. — Dashing  his  brush  against  the  can- 
vass. (D  377,  22.)  267,  17.  See  7,  4.  267,  33. — Two  ghastly- 
Apparitions,  unreal  simulacra  both,  Hypocrisy  and  Atheism 
are  alread}^  in  silence,  parting  the  world.  (Bo  160,  24  ff.) 
268,  7.     See  3,  14.     16,  33.— Watch-tower.     (C  C  28,  4.)    . 

Appendix  :  Testimonies  of  Authors,  pp.  399-404.  Now 
your  Reviewer  is  a  mere  taster;  who  tastes,  and  saj^s,  by  the 
evidence  of  such  palate,  such  tongue,  as  he  has  got— It  is  good; 
it  is  bad.  (Ch  71,  25.)  In  what  is  called  reviewing  such  a 
book  as  this,  we  are  aware  that  to  the  judicious  craftsman  two 
methods  present  themselves.  The  first  and  most  convenient  is 
for  the  Reviewer  to  perch  himself  resolutely,  as  it  were,  on  the 
shoulder  of  his  Author,  and  therefrom  to  show  as  if  he  com- 
manded him,  and  looked  down  on  him  by  natural  superiority 
of  stature.  Whatever  the  great  man  says  or  does,  the  little 
man  shall  treat  with  an  air  of  knowingness  and  light  conde- 
scending mockery  ;  professing,  with  much  covert  sarcasm,  that 
this  and  that  other  is  beyond  ///^  comprehension,  and  cunningly 
asking  his  readers  if  they  comprehend  it !  Herein  it  will  help 
him  mightil}',  if,  besides  description,  he  can  quote  a  few  pas- 
sages, which,'  in  their  detached  state,  and  taken  most  probably 
in  quite  a  wrong  acceptation  of  the  words,  shall  sound  strange, 
and  to  certain  hearers,  even  absurd  ;  all  which  will  be  easy 
enough,  if  he  have  any  handiness  in  the  business,  and  address 
the  right  audience.      (N  86,  21  ff.) 

A  glance  at  the  passages  quoted  above  will  show,  what 
might  naturally  have  been  expected,  that  the  most  characteris- 
tic ideas  of  Sartor  Q.r&  those  most  frequently  anticipated.  As 
the  metaphysical  significance  of  the  clothes  philosophy  begins 
to  appear  (Book  I,  chapter  VIII  and  X),  the  parallels  multi- 
ply. The  glorification  of  childhood,  and  the  stern  repression 
of  youth  under  mechanical  systems  of  education,  are  favorite 
ideas  •(  Book  II,  chapters  II  and  III).     While    the    memorable 


The  Growth  of  Sartor  Resartus.  49 

chapters  describing  the  spiritual  experience  of  one  passing  from 
doubt  to  faith  had  many  fore-runners  (chapters  VII,  VIII,  IX). 
In  Book  III,  the  philosophical  aspect  of  the  clothes  idea,  and 
its  application  to  human  Society,  are  paramount,  and  were 
many  times  gradually  approached  (see  especially  chapters  III 
to  VIII).  Goethe  and  Schiller,  besides  their  personal  experi- 
ences, contributed  several  suggestions  of  detail."'  So  also  did 
Novalis  and  Richter.^^'  While  to  Johnson,  as  Professor  Mac 
Mechan  has  shown,  Carlyle  owed  his  famous  shibboleth  of 
Cant. (3)  All  this  does  not  materially  detract  from  Carlyle's 
originality.  He  was  as  original  as  it  is  possible  for  mankind 
to  be  :  he  assimilated  what  he  found,  and  transfused^  it  with 
new   meaning. 

Final  Note. —  An  examination  of  Carlyle's  Historical 
Sketches,  Ivondon,  1898,  shows  that  the  work,  though  compara- 
tivety  early,  had  its  practical  commencement  in  1843,  and  so  is 
outside  the  scope  of  the  present  inquiry.  J.  A.  S.  Barrett's 
^^\\.\oxioi  Sartor  Resartus,  lyondon,  1897,  contains  much  interest- 
ing'material  in  relation  to  the  earlier  essays  and  the  translations 
from  the  German. '-^^ 

(i)     See  on  55,  4  ;  S3,  16;  86,  11  {ci^Vs  Note);  88,  10  (cf  M's   Note);    167,    11  ;    173,   8. 

(2)  1,19;    47,3-5;    4S,  23;  61,  20;  90,  I  ;  147,  ig;  155,  10;  161,  17;    169,14;    177,14;    229,15. 

(3)  See  on  9.  32,  and  M's  A'o/^.  (4)  For  metaphors  and  other  suggestions  from  Richter, 
see  notes  in  Barrett's  edition,  pp  65,  75,  76,  81,  83,  86,  106,  139,  163,  176,  183,  189,  192,  193,  199, 
204,  273,  279,  282.  For  evidences  of  indebtedness  to  Goethe,  see  Barrett,  notes  on  pp  67, 
75,  141,  147,  164,  167,  170,  173,  178,  203,  218,  264.  For  suggestions  from  Novalis,  see  pp  97, 
187,  254,  261. 


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